Broken
by IAmAutumnDawn
Summary: Can Bella's education as an RN prepare her for the struggle she will face caring for a wounded, traumatized vet? Or, better yet, will the war prepare Edward for the internal struggle he will battle with his pretty new nurse?
1. Broken  A One Shot

**Entry for "The Cherry Exchange"  
****Title: Broken  
****Penname: IAmAutumnDawn  
****Rating: NC-17f  
****Word Count: 14,998  
Summary: Can Bella's education as an RN prepare her for the struggle she will face caring for a wounded, traumatized vet? Or, better yet, will the war prepare Edward for the internal struggle he will battle with his pretty new nurse?**

**BROKEN**

**EPOV**

I woke to the sounds of my own screaming; my mouth parched, my throat sore, my hands fisted in the sweat-drenched sheets.

Wasn't it bad enough that I had to survive the explosion? Wasn't the paralysis punishment for my wanting to save that mongrel? Why was it imperative that I relive that moment in vivid detail every time I closed my eyes?

My palms rubbed painfully at my lids, attempting to push the visions back from my teary eyes – to force them to retreat into the darkest abyss within my brain where they could never come to haunt me again. The sound of my own whimpering as I sobbed relentlessly made me sick to my stomach.

"Mr. Cullen?" Her sweet voice intruded on my embarrassing moment as she flipped the light switch, bathing my humiliation in bright white light.

"Get out!" I glared at her murderously to disguise the broken, wretched voice that escaped painfully from my constricted throat.

Wide, deep brown eyes stared back at me as her tiny hands gripped the doorframe.

"Out!" I barked again. Her head dropped as she reached for the door knob, backing out into the hallway as she pulled the door closed, hiding away from my misplaced anger.

Free from her witness, I convulsed once again with sobs of pain, anger, remorse and humiliation. Like a neglected child, I cried myself back to sleep to relive the nightmare that had become my life.

**BPOV**

I woke with a start to the most horrid, painful screeching I had ever heard. Immediately, I knew that sound would feature in nightmares for the rest of my life, splitting my brain and churning my stomach just as it was doing now. It was the scream of a thousand lost souls battling for dominance within one sad, wounded man. I slipped on my house coat racing through the unfamiliar house to get to him. Without a second thought, I tore open his door, calling to him as I flipped on the light. The brilliant, incandescent white light washed over the room, illuminating the broken, sobbing soldier beneath the heavy sheets.

Haunted, red-rimmed, bloodshot green eyes turned on me angrily as he ordered me out of his room.

I wanted to help. I wanted to comfort him. Give him a sedative, hold him while he cried, sing to him until he fell into a peaceful oblivion.

_Something._

I was a nurse – that was the nature of the job. It was a career I had chosen in response to my deep-seeded desire to mend the broken, heal the hurt and cure the sick. Looking at the tall, heavily muscled man crying in the bed, I was suddenly doused with a million insecurities. I had been out of school for less than a month. This was my very first job and I was already feeling overwhelmed by the obstacle ahead of me.

Aside from his physical injuries – Edward Cullen was suffering from Conversion Disorder, or what laymen referred to as Hysterical Paralysis– he was a young man dealing with the psychological and emotional trauma of war.

I had only moved into his apartment that morning and yet the signs of the promising life he had ahead of him were evident everywhere. There were speech and debate plaques, swimming trophies, and photos of the handsome man suited up in ski gear as he hugged a beautiful, blue eyed husky amidst snow-capped mountains. Now the intelligent, athletic, good looking man was lying in a bed, screaming and crying from the memories of a war that crippled him.

I had been warned that it was pertinent that I retain a certain level of distance from my patients. One of my teachers had a motto she drilled into our heads every day. "We are there to care for the patient's injuries – not the patient." She warned us that being too sentimental and getting too attached would only hinder our ability to treat them and lead to our personal deterioration. We were to be kind and considerate, but retain a professional, distant demeanor at all times if we had any hopes of making this a life-long career without succumbing to depression.

Although it sounded like the advice of a jaded nurse, I could now see her point. I had known Mr. Cullen for less than twenty four hours and yet it felt like twisting a knife into my stomach to walk away as I listened to his sobs on the other side of the door.

His last nurse had lasted only three weeks. What hope did I have to make it any longer than that?

I cried in my bedroom that night, hugging my pillow tightly, caressing its imaginary bronze hair as I attempted to soothe it and myself to sleep.

**EPOV**

Upon waking up to the bright sunlight streaming through my room, the young woman's kind, concerned face was the first thing that had come to my mind. My face flushed as I recalled my humiliation and I immediately regretted barking at her the way I had.

Once upon a time, I would have charmed her. Before the war, I would have smiled my most dazzling smile and watched as she bit that plump bottom lip of hers and batted her eyes. Now, calling the attractive young women into my bedroom to escort me to the bathroom would just add insult to injury. It was simply more than I could bear.

I grabbed the rung above my bed to pull myself upright, attempting to calculate how difficult it would be to transfer myself to my chair without her help. My upper body was still strong so I didn't imagine any trouble there; however, the chair was not necessarily as close to the bed as I would have liked and wasn't really in the most ideal position for my first try.

Hell, isn't that what this live-in nurse thing was about? To help me learn to live on my own as an independent cripple?

_Independent my ass…_

I felt the electricity course through my body as my brain signaled for my foot to kick the covers off of me in an angry, childish fit, and watched as my foot remained motionless beneath the blanket.

"Argh!" I cried out in rage, instantly clamping my hand over my mouth, hoping that I hadn't alerted my nurse to come charging in to save me. I didn't think I could stand another humiliating moment just yet.

_I needed a fucking win, damn it! Just give me a fucking win!_

With that, I tore the sheets off of my disabled body, grabbed the knees of my pajama bottoms and lifted my legs up and over the side of the bed. It took a lot of maneuvering, upper body strength and grunting, but I managed it. I stretched, gripping onto the night stand to help balance myself as my left arm reached – my fingers fully extended, struggling to touch upon the arm of the chair. I was so close – another inch would place my fingertips on the black padded armrest. I let go of the nightstand in an effort to gain the extra inch that I needed and realized a moment too late that I had made a mistake. My legs crumbled beneath me as I rolled off the mattress, tumbling into a worthless heap on the wooden floor between my bed and my chair.

_Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!_ Played silently in my head as I allowed one solitary, humorless laugh to escape my lips before giving into the rage that I knew was coming.

My fist pounded on the floor, the instant throbbing pain sobering me minutely. "Mr. Cullen, are you alright?" I heard her sweet voice approaching only seconds before she peeked in through the door and gasped, rushing to my side. "I'm so, so sorry sir! I didn't know you were awake! I never heard you call me!" She rambled as she knelt down beside me, her hand on my shoulder, unsure how to proceed.

The thought that this petite, fragile woman could possibly help me at this moment in time fueled my rage into a blazing inferno.

"I didn't call you! Stop barging into my room like you own the place! You work for me, God damn it! How about giving me a little bit of privacy for a change?" I roared, the flush returning to my pale skin once again in response to my humiliation and anger.

I had gone over seas to protect her…_erm…_small, dainty, fragile people just like her, anyway. I was the hero. I was the protector. How the hell did I end up on the floor with her coming to my rescue anyway?

Her doe eyes went wide once again, but she didn't run away. Instead, she remained at my side, her expression imploring me for…_for what? What the hell did she want from me, anyway?_

"Please let me help you, Mr. Cullen." She whispered in a small, frightened voice.

"Why?" I barked, losing just a little of my edge.

She bit her lip and audibly swallowed. "Because it's my job."

_Right. She was hired to take care of your sorry ass, Cullen._

"And how do you expect to do that, Nurse Swan? You're half my size. How do you suggest to pick my crippled ass up off the floor?"

Despite the sympathy in her eyes, a smile pulled at one edge of her pretty, pink lips. "I can see why you would be doubtful, sir. Why not let me give it a try and prove you wrong?"

I hated the sympathy, but couldn't help respond to the confident challenge. I set my mouth into a fine line, squared my jaw and nodded my approval. To my great surprise, she stood up behind me, set her feet on either side of my hips, slipped her tiny hands beneath my arms so that she was gripping the front of my shoulders and single-handedly began to lift me from the floor. It took me a moment to get over my astonishment before I used my upper body strength to push and pull, helping her situate me into the chair.

In my surprise at her strength and capability, I had momentarily forgotten my humiliation and anger, choosing instead to stare at her awestruck.

She grinned from ear to ear, obviously proud of herself. "How was that, sir?"

Feeling humbled, I lowered my head – unable to look into her satisfied eyes while I mumbled an insincere "Thanks."

Her voice softened; the distinct note of self-satisfaction suddenly gone. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all." I muttered.

"Really? Was there somewhere in particular you wanted to go? Can I help you to the restroom or anything?" She asked eagerly.

"I said that's all!" I belted, the inferno raging back to life instantly.

I looked up just in time to see her attempt to blink away the impending tears. "Yes sir. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know. Otherwise, I will be in the kitchen fixing breakfast."

She appeared to make an insecure curtsy before quickly tiptoeing out of the room, anxious to make a get away without upsetting me further.

The moment she was gone, the anger vanished, replaced by more feelings of inadequacy and guilt.

**BPOV**

I thought I might have won him over this morning when I single-handedly managed to lift him from the floor. His anger and embarrassment appeared to recede as he looked at me with impressed wonder, and I felt the fleeting satisfaction that not only could I do this job, but maybe I had found that moment when I had broken through to the angry, sad man.

When the rage, hatred and yelling quickly set back in, I loathed the tears that pricked at my eyes, making me appear small and sensitive instead of the assertive, confident professional that I was trying to be.

This was a job. I was not his friend. I was not his savior. He had an injury and it was my job to heal him or teach him how to live with it.

Nothing less.

Nothing more.

I kept my distance for the rest of the day – backing down immediately when he declined my help but always reminding him that I would be right there if he felt he needed me.

He was a stubborn, proud man. I wondered if he was this way with his previous nurse, or if it was something particular about me that made him doubt my capability to do my job.

_Treat the patient's injuries, not the patient._

I wish I had taken that warning more seriously in school. Had I made it my personal mantra before starting this job, perhaps it would be a little easier to distance myself and keep my girly emotions at bay.

I dreaded his upcoming bath. My first night, he had insisted on skipping it, claiming that he was clean enough to lie motionless in his bed or mope around his house all day. I seriously doubted he would ask to skip another bath and, even if he did, I would feel neglectful if I didn't insist.

I had volunteered at a local hospital during college and had given plenty of sponge baths to patients – young and old, men and women alike. It was always a little bit uncomfortable, but I had learned to be professional about it and to do the job thoroughly while causing them the least bit of discomfort and embarrassment possible. I had even learned how to ignore some of the men's natural responses to having a young woman bathe them. Hell, I was a virgin but I wasn't _that_ naïve. I knew about the "naughty nurse" fantasies that run rampant and never attributed their reactions to me specifically. No matter what the situation, being touched like that is an intimate thing and the body is going to react, regardless.

My nerves in this scenario dealt more directly with Mr. Cullen's anger issues and stubborn desire to decline assistance. If he would just accept my help and learn not to direct his anger at me, I could have him in and out of the tub in no time with little stress for both of us. However, I strongly sensed that that would not be the case.

"I'll get your bath ready, Mr. Cullen." I announced as he sat in bed, glossy eyes staring at the news on tv with no evident interest. He immediately clenched his jaw, his entire body tensing for a fight. I scurried off to the adjoining bathroom, warming the water to a decent temperature before plugging the drain to let it fill while I raised the lift to the same height as the side of the tub. My stomach tightened nervously once the water level was high enough and the lift in place, knowing the battle that I was about to face. I took a deep cleansing breath, squaring my shoulders and practiced my best distant, professional expression in the mirror before marching out to the bedroom.

Mr. Cullen sat on the side of the bed, his shirt already removed and discarded beside him. I had prepared to be accosted by his anger, humiliation and venomous words, but I had not prepared for the butterflies I felt upon seeing his well defined pecks, chiseled abs and heavily muscled arms. Luckily, his head was hung low as I entered the room, allowing me a second to collect myself before he looked up at me.

I grabbed his wheelchair for a distraction and angled it more closely to him so that he could transfer himself more easily from the bed. There was no anger, no argument, no hostility. Without meeting my gaze, he drew in a deep, resigned breath before placing his hands on the arm of the chair and hoisting himself into it. I swallowed as I watched the muscles in his stomach tighten, the expanse of his shoulders, arms and back rippling with the effort to move himself gracefully from one place to the other. The pit of my stomach clenched inconceivably and I was having difficulty breathing. With him safely in the chair, I moved around to the front to drop the foot rests and lift his legs to position his feet, averting my gaze the entire time so that he couldn't read the inappropriate thoughts ravishing my mind.

I wordlessly released the break and moved around to the back to push him the rest of the way into the accessible bathroom.

**EPOV**

I hated having to be bathed like a small child. I hated it in the VA hospital, I hated it when the portly, mature Nurse Cope did it and I sure as hell was going to hate it when this innocent, lovely brunette did it. But, it had to be done and after my mishap this morning, there was no way in hell I was going to attempt to do it myself. Even my own stubbornness had its boundaries. So, at least an hour before she offered to prepare my bath, my mind was already a million miles away, trying to escape this personal hell while avoiding another. I stared blankly at CNN, not registering anything about the bright pictures that flashed across the screen.

When she announced that it was time, my stomach coiled like it did every time my squad approached another IED, waiting with baited breath as the Sarge maneuvered the wires to see if he would once again be able to safely disarm it.

_Tick tick tick, boom._

There was no anger – the humiliation was all consuming this time. I had once given into fantasies of showering with various women – watching the water cascade over their curves as their soft, delicate fingers wandered over my hardened body, eliciting imaginary feelings that I had never gotten the chance to enjoy in the flesh.

This was not romantic, or sensual, or sexual.

A beautiful woman was about to bathe me because I couldn't do it myself, and it was her job.

_Just more salt on the wound._

I shrugged out of my shirt, anxious to get the ordeal over with. I mentally prepared myself, going to that dark, quiet place in my head that I had often visited to get away from the horrors of the war being waged all around me; trying like hell to imagine that this wasn't really happening. I wasn't really this guy. This wasn't really my life. It was all just a bad dream, and when I woke up, I was finally going to get the nerve to ask Tanya Denali to go to the Senior Prom with me, because life was just too friggin' short.

I don't remember much about lifting myself into my chair and being wheeled into the bathroom. I don't know how she managed to undress me or get me into the tub, and I'd be surprised if I had been any help. I came back momentarily from my black silence to see that she was bathing me and instantly ran back to the black hole to escape the moment, not wanting the visual of being there to accompany the rising embarrassment.

I would just hide away in my secret place until it was all over; until I could lie down, dry and clean in my bed, waiting for the nightmares to come once again.

**BPOV**

The guilt was nauseating.

Guilt upon guilt upon guilt.

I should have checked him more thoroughly after his fall this morning, instead of running away to comfort myself the moment his anger flared. Because of my cowardice, I didn't do my job and I had neglected my patient.

His lounge pants lay on the floor beside his discarded boxer briefs as I carefully studied the black and blue discolorations on his long, lean legs. Of course he couldn't tell me…he couldn't have known he had injured himself. And, even if he could, he wouldn't have. He was too proud for that.

I might have to go against his wishes: toughen up and fight back if I were going to prevent him from hurting himself further.

He moved onto the lift as if in a trance, gazing blankly at the tiled walls as I lowered the seat into the warm water. Simply by looking at him in his naked form, aside from the bruises, there was no way that you could tell this was a broken man. Not a damn thing made you feel sorry or sympathetic. No - the sight of him was eliciting entirely different emotions that were incredibly inappropriate.

I tried to remind myself that it was human nature for my body to respond, just as previous gentlemen had responded to me. He was an attractive man and this was an intimate encounter, so it was only natural. However, gazing down at the goosebumps that formed on his smooth skin as I caressed him gently with the wash cloth were affecting my ability to do a thoroughly professional job while maintaining a tension-free experience for the both of us.

His eyes had remained unfocused as I washed over his skin until the wash cloth grazed over the flaccid length between his legs. Suddenly, he gazed down at my hand as I stroked him under the water, sucking in air between his teeth before he squeezed his eyes against the image, clenching his jaw provocatively and turning his head away; like a child does when expecting an injection.

Immediately, it felt less like I was a nurse performing a professional obligation and more like I was a sexual intruder, molesting him against his will.

His facial expression reminded me of the victims in Lifetime movies who mentally go far, far away during a rape - hiding behind psychological barriers to protect themselves from the emotional trauma being inflicted upon them. I felt putrid and dirty and had to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth to stave off the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me.

I put up some psychological barriers of my own after that, blocking out the appeal of his body, working like an automaton to complete the task quickly so that I could escape to the privacy of the guest room.

**EPOV**

The flashes, explosions and screams of my fallen friends once again woke me from my fitful sleep amidst sweat-stained blankets. It didn't surprise me – I had yet to have a single night of undisturbed sleep. I ground my teeth together, fighting off the tears as I attempted to catch my breath and calm my erratic heart.

There was a light tapping at my door. "Mr. Cullen, may I come in?" She asked in a mousy voice.

"No Nurse Swan, I'm fine. Go back to bed." I spoke through clenched teeth, trying in vain to control my temper.

Ironically, my heart sank a little bit when she didn't persist.

_What the hell did I want?_

_Damned if I knew._

I was surprised at the way my spirits lifted a moment later at the subtle creaking of my bedroom door as she peeked in.

"Mr. Cullen, I'm sorry to intrude, but I have something that I believe might help you to get some decent sleep. May I please come in?"

I huffed indignantly. "Fine. Come in. Whatever."

The door opened only a sliver more as she squeezed through and timidly approached my bed without turning on the light. I heard her place some things on the nightstand before I felt her hand reach behind my shoulders in an attempt to help me sit up. I reached for the grip above my bed, pulling myself upright to assist her.

The room instantly felt colder when she removed her hand from my shoulder to retrieve the items from the nightstand.

In the darkness, she reached for my hand, her fingers feeling like a child's as they wrapped around mine, placing two tablets into my palm. Once I closed my hand around the pills, she reached for my other hand, securing my fingers around a tumbler of cool water. I downed the pills quickly before handing the glass back to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She whispered.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to dream about it. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to even remember it!" I bellowed, surprising even myself with the onslaught of my rage.

"I just thought-" she started, but before I could stop myself, my serpentine tongue struck again.

"Enough thinking for one night, Nurse Swan. Now let's hope these drugs you just gave me are enough to silence the war you've just started in my head, shall we?" I hadn't spoken much, but the words were so loud and fierce that my voice was immediately hoarse.

"Yes sir." I couldn't see her in the shadows, but I pictured her bowing her head in submission and backing for the door. "I'm sorry, I…good night."

With a silent click as the door latched, she was gone, and I was even more miserable without her.

**BPOV**

It was day one of my fourth week working for Edward Cullen. I had officially outlasted my predecessor, though I strongly doubted I was doing any better of a job.

Mr. Cullen and I had learned the bare necessities for co-existing. After I got him to take the prescribed medication, he started managing to get a little more sleep each night and there was a slight improvement in his color as his jade eyes came back to life, the redness and swelling decreasing noticeably. He only awoke screaming once or twice a week now, though he still refused to discuss it with me or anyone else for that matter, and he still yelled at me each time I came into his room. However, I continued to come running each and every time, always reaching out to him, hopeful that it might be that one night I made a breakthrough.

He continued to gaze off into the distance during his bath time, which ultimately made me feel lewd and criminal. At first, I continued to join him, shutting my mind off as I ran the soapy cloth over his skin, attempting to ignore my intimate thoughts and reactions. However, it only proved more difficult in time with our increasing familiarity.

Our daily therapy was helping to strengthen his legs so they were less lanky, more in tune with the rest of his magnificent body. His thighs were fuller, more muscular than they had been at first. His skin continued to prickle beneath my touch, though there was never the reaction I secretly hoped for – the proof that he felt drawn to me in the same raw, natural way that I felt attracted to him. No matter what attention I lavished upon him, there was never _that_ particularly desirable response.

I wanted to believe it was part of his condition and not that he was completely immune to me, but the fact that he was still in control of his other faculties led me to believe otherwise. It was wrong for me to think such things, but he had started infiltrating my dreams at night, and it was a difficult notion to ward off given our constant proximity and the intimate nature of our dealings.

**EPOV**

The screaming was deafening - tears instantly streaming down my face as I found myself incapable of bolting out of bed like I so desperately wanted to. The dreams hadn't been as bad since Nurse Swan started giving me the sleeping pills – I only battled with them a couple of times a week now. However, this nightmare had been the most realistic, the most vividly terrifying experience I had since coming home from Iraq.

As had become second nature, I knew to expect the rapping on my door a minute before she did it, prepared to bellow at her the moment she peeked her pretty, brunette head inside.

"Mr. Cullen? Are you okay? May I get you anything?"

"No! What the fuck are you going to get for me, huh? A frontal lobotomy? Did your little nurse school prepare you for that one, Nurse Swan? For the millionth time, there is _nothing_ you can do for me! We've been over this time and time again! Why can't you just stay in your damned room and leave me the hell alone?" I shouted, breaking on that last note as the sobs overtook me.

"Because it's my job…" She responded almost silently.

"Fuck your job, Nurse Swan! I don't give a flying fuck about your job!"

"I don't know what to do, sir? I'm your nurse. How can I sit in my room and hear you screaming and not come running to help you? I don't know what you need…" Once again, in the darkness, I could picture her shrinking back against the door frame; mousy, weak and cowardly.

"Grow a fucking backbone, Swan!" I was in no mood to placate her whiny, sniffly ass while I had my own whining, sniffling ass to worry about.

"Sir?" She sounded confused.

"I said grow a fucking backbone! Stop standing in my doorway, sniffling like you want me to somehow make it all better for you. You sit there and take my shit, sulking around the place, cowering in the corner like you're afraid I might rip your head off. You are not a little girl and I hate to break it to you, but I am nobody's hero. I've got nothing for you. No sympathy. No help. No advice or support or words of encouragement. I tried to be the fucking hero and look where that got me! So fuck off – cry and sniffle to someone else and let me deal with my shit in peace!" My voice cracked so many times through my rant that I sounded like I was repeating puberty.

I expected to hear the quiet click of the latch as she skulked away, closing the door behind her.

Therefore, the slamming of the door and blinding light caught me completely off guard.

"You want me to grow a backbone Mr. Cullen? Here it is. You are not a paraplegic. You have Conversion Disorder, which means that you went through some crazy shit back in Iraq that you are not dealing with and, until you do, your body is going to shut down on you and prevent you from living the life you should be living." She seethed, her dark eyes narrowing at me.

I waved my hand down over my legs like a magician revealing his trick. "Are you calling me crazy, Nurse Swan? You've dressed me, bathed me and everything for three weeks now – are you suggesting I can just get up and walk away at any time I want? Are you seriously suggesting that I'm faking this?"

Her voice softened slightly. "Of course not. What you are going through is a very real thing. But the fact of the matter is that what you are experiencing can be overcome. You can walk again. The life I see in this home – the trophies and plaques and pictures – you can have that life again, if you want it. I can help you. We can do it together. But first, you have to stop hating yourself, you have to give up the guilt and _let me _help you." She pleaded.

"Oh, aren't you a ray of fucking sunshine?" I bit.

"No, I'm not. I've just learned enough about you to see that you are an intelligent, strong minded, capable man. If you put as much effort into helping yourself as you do into fighting me, there's a strong chance we could beat this thing."

My heart clenched against the stirrings of hope. My mind rallied against the joy I felt of hearing her compliment me – of hearing that she believed in me, even if I didn't. My stomach revolted at her kindness in spite of my hatred and cruelty.

The small, easily frightened woman surprised me further when she perched beside me on the bed, positioning me so that my shoulders were now overlapping her legs as she ran tiny fingers through my riotous hair. "Talk to me. Let me help."

**BPOV**

I don't know what came over me, but I rose to the challenge, biting back with fierce words of my own, taking him head on. He fired back and instead of being afraid as I always was, my heart ached for him. He reminded me of a cornered, wounded dog, growling and snapping in self defense.

I changed tactics, begging and coercing instead of fighting back, and I could see the first crack in his wall – a possible way in. The scared little mutt was still growling and snapping, but he was also looking at my outreached hand curiously, anxious to see what I had to offer.

Emboldened by the ground I was gaining, I quickly eased onto his bed, shifting him slightly so that he was leaning on my lap and running my fingers soothingly through his thick bronze hair as I had ached to do for weeks now. "Talk to me. Let me help." I prompted.

"What do you want me to say?" He sighed.

"Whatever you feel you need to talk about. Do you want to tell me about your dream?"

He snorted once, without humor. "I know you are trying to help me, but I haven't talked to the therapist, my family or friends about that. What makes you think I'd be willing to discuss it with you?"

"Have they heard you screaming in the middle of the night? Have they seen the way you look when you wake up from one of those dreams? Do you think they would understand from having lived with you what it is like for you on a daily basis?"

Surprisingly, he shifted slightly so that he was leaning more on his side, and reached his arm across me so that he was somewhat hugging my knees.

"I dream about the accident." He started.

The silence loomed, but I fought the need to fill it will unnecessary prompting, choosing instead to let him continue when he was ready.

Eventually, he elaborated.

"I was a Marine Corporal, Class E4 for a Demolition Squad. My team and I were ordered to report to Kabul to await further instructions. Along the way, we saw a dog on the side of the road with his legs tied together. God knows how long he had been there, baking alive under the harsh sun, panting on the very brink of death.

"Before I left for the service, we had this gorgeous husky named Dreamer. I knew if we drove on by, that dog would be dead in a matter of hours and it made me think of how I would have felt if it had been Dreamer out there in those conditions.

"I asked Sarge for permission to exit the Hum-V to tend to the dog, suggesting we could take him with us to Kabul to get him some treatment. He reminded me that we weren't in neutral territory. He sympathized, but warned that we simply could not take the risk.

"I don't know why, but I simply couldn't move on and leave that dog there to die. There was so much outside of my control…it just felt like one small obstacle I could over come, so I told him I was willing to take the risk if he could just give me five minutes to retrieve the poor thing. I knew he didn't agree with me, but morale was pretty low at the time and he knew we just needed one small victory to get us through. He huffed at me, saying that there was no way he would allow one of his men to go out there and risk himself for a dog, but seeing how important it was to me, he would go to examine the poor guy and see if there was any hope for him.

"I still remember smiling like a spoiled rotten little brat who managed to nag his parents until they gave up and bought him what he wanted.

"Newton rolled down the front passenger window and poked his head out to get a better look. Crowley stepped out from the back seat to keep an eye out, to guard the Sarge's back while he was exposed. The Sarge walked around the vehicle to the dog and removed his knife to slice through the rope around its hind legs. I was attempting to bend over the driver's seat to get a better look over Newton's shoulder, but I couldn't twist my body well enough to see over his big, blonde head."

His voice was hollow and distant as he recalled the events, like narrating a silent movie that was playing for his eyes only.

"I'm not sure if I actually saw it or if my mind made it all up, but I remember the Sarge's hat blowing off of his head as the IED hidden below the dog detonated - pieces of the small, frightened creature merging with the Sarge to bathe the Hum-V in red seconds before the vehicle flipped."

His voice grew higher with the strain of recalling the experience, his back tensing beneath my arm as he hugged my knees more tightly.

"I must have blacked out, but I don't know how long. It was so fucking hot…the underside of the vehicle was on fire and we were cooking inside like turkeys in an oven. The sweat was pouring into my eyes, stinging me, making it even more difficult to see through the black smoke that filled the interior. Crowley's door was still open so I struggled to pull my way over to it, but there was gear or something in my way. I grabbed onto it, attempting to throw it over so I could get out…but it wasn't gear….._it wasn't gear_…"

I wrapped my arms around him as his voice became muffled by body-quaking sobs, attempting to still the hurricane of emotions tearing through him.

"My God! It was Crowley! Only, it was half of him. _Only half!_ His legs were gone! Can you imagine what it's like crawling over your friend…_your brother!_...feeling the mangled remains of his skin and bone beneath your fingertips?"

Silent tears began streaming down my face at his confessions. I couldn't hold him tight enough to keep him together – all I could do was sit and watch as he relived his own personal nightmare for me.

"I turned…I tried to look away at anything but Crowley, but I only saw the bloody remains of Mike's face as he lie motionless across the roof of the vehicle. He had been facing the blast when it went off – looking right into the eye of the fire. I could smell his charred flesh – it filled the cab and choked me. I clawed my way out, through the remains of my friends, emerging on the steaming desert sand covered in their blood. What was left of the Sarge lay strewn across the sand amidst bits of green cloth and brown fur. _It's entirely my fault!_ _I killed them all!"_ He cried out in the most horrendous, wretched pain I had ever witnessed in all of my life; his hands clawing at me desperately, seeking unattainable solace.

"It's not your fault…" I soothed as I scooted further down onto the bed so that he could embrace my waist in trembling arms. His tears soaked my gown as I reciprocated, circling my arms around the broad expanse of his shoulders and back, holding onto him tightly as he struggled for sanity.

"_It's not your fault…"_

**EPOV**

I didn't wake up until after noon, meaning that I had more than twelve hours of blissful, undisturbed sleep - many of which were spent dreaming of a certain mahogany haired, chocolate eyed beauty.

My body was sore from the tension I had felt while recalling my dream for her, but feeling well rested for the first time since before I joined the Marines more than made up for the humiliation I felt for crying myself to sleep in my pretty nurse's arms.

I had forgotten what good a solid night's sleep could do for a person. The difference was miraculous.

I looked around my room to find myself alone. I wondered when the petite brunette had climbed out from underneath me. I could only hope that I had not crushed her in my oblivion or made her too unbearably uncomfortable with my graphic memories and man-child behavior.

The thought made the images I had vividly described for her last night flash across my mind's eye and my body tensed for the assault of emotions that usually accompanied them, but a new thought distracted me before the onslaught hit.

What if it was too much? She had put up with three weeks of my moody abuse – but what if last night was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back? What if in my horrid memories and desperate clinginess, I finally convinced the kind, young woman that I was a lost cause – too incredibly broken to ever be fixed?

The idea of her quitting on me like Nurse Cope did – that she could have already packed her bags and walked out the door – bothered me more than I wanted to admit. She had been kind and submissive when I wanted her to be and strong and confrontational when I had needed it most. Because of her optimism and confidence, I had finally seen the first dawn of hope in my dark, dreary life. I was by no means cured – there was a long road of recovery still left for me to traverse, but if she gave up on me now, I didn't know where I could go from here. I didn't know if I could take that large first step with anyone else now that she had taken my hand and helped me confront my personal demons.

I needed to make her happy here. I needed to let her know that I appreciated what she did for me. As much as the idea terrified me…I needed to let her know that I _needed_ her. Scratch that – she knew I needed her. That was her job. No, I needed to make it clear that I _wanted_ her…_help_, that is.

Yes. I wanted her to help me.

**BPOV**

I could feel his moist, hot breath through my nightgown, whispering over my pert breast as my nipple responded to the nearness of his full, pink lips. His hand circled my waist, his thumb rubbing lazy circles against my hip bone as I squeezed my legs together to ease the building tension between my thighs. I nuzzled into his thick hair, inhaling his manly scent deeply as the gold, red and brown strands tickled my sensitive lips. He pulled his body tightly against mine and I moaned with anticipation.

That was when my subconscious started banging the pots and pans together. "Wake up, Bella!"

My eyes shot wide open as I realized that I was fondling the traumatized, injured man who had fallen asleep in my arms.

_Way to go, you perv!_ I internally berated myself. _You finally get the man to take a drastic step and open up to you and you molest him while you dream wholly inappropriate dreams! Get the hell out of his bed! Where is your sense of professional decorum?_

I gently rolled him onto his back, hoping against all hope that I would not wake him from his first peaceful sleep in months. Luckily, he raised his arms over his head, interlocking his fingers behind his messy hair and smacking his lips together while a small grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. I had never watched him sleep before. It was such a drastic difference from the pained, guilt-ridden, angry man that he was in the daytime that it pulled at my heartstrings. I granted myself a moment to watch him, happy in slumber, imagining that I may have helped in some small way. I literally had to tear myself away from his bedside, my mind churning over the revelations he shared with me as he cried in my arms.

His nightmares would be mine now, I was sure of it. Just as his shrieking had invaded my senses since my very first night in his home, the visions of blood and fallen comrades were sure to haunt me just as they had haunted him. I wished that I could somehow get inside of him and wipe it all clean. Scrub away the hurt and pain; disinfect his soul from the guilt and remorse.

I wandered across the silent living room back to the guest room, grabbing my things before settling into the bathroom for a little spiritual cleansing of my own. The hot water beat down on sore muscles I wasn't even aware I had tensed during the night, slowly working the knots out. I turned my back to the jets, allowing them to do their work as I fought to clear the heart-wrenching visions from my mind's eye. Unfortunately, instead of training on quiet, meditative thoughts, my body led my mind in a completely different direction.

My imagination picked up where it left off and soon, I was in Edward Cullen's arms, tasting the saltiness of his perfect skin, enraptured in the feel of his warm flesh against mine as his strength eased between my thighs, passion and lust purging the darker images from both of our minds as we came undone in ecstasy.

**EPOV**

"Nurse Swan!" I call out into the void that is my home as I swallow hard, struggling defiantly with the next words I'm about to say. "Could you help me, please?"

Instantly, I hear her tiny footsteps racing through the house to get to me. I am sitting on the edge of the bed as she pushes through the door, her eyes wide as usual. "Did you call me?" She asks breathlessly.

"Yes." I swallow again, having even more difficulty repeating myself. "Could you help me to the restroom, please?" I muster, managing a timid smile.

Her responding smile is absolutely radiant, as if her pony just won the blue ribbon at the fair. "Of course, Mr. Cullen." She hurriedly grabbed my wheelchair and pushed it to my side, quickly locking the brakes and coming around to help me balance as I transferred myself over.

"Please…call me Edward." I give her another timid smile which feels foreign on my face. She looks momentarily worried.

"Are you sure?" She asks, her eyebrows arching over weary eyes.

I chuckle at her. "You're bathing me, dressing me, feeding me and sleeping with me. I'm pretty sure we can be on a first name basis." I joke, immediately realizing the inappropriateness of my comment. I can feel my brows furrow and my mouth gape open as I drop my head in shame.

I can't look at her to be sure, but I imagine her reaction was pretty similar. She walks behind me in silence, unlocks the wheels and begins pushing me toward the bathroom. A moment later, she clears her throat. "I'm Isabella, but my friends call me Bella." She offers.

"Should I count myself among your friends, then?" I tease, taken aback by my own brazenness.

"I'm bathing you, dressing you, feeding you and sleeping with you." She throws my words back at me. "I think we've already crossed that bridge."

I laughed…_really _laughed…and was surprised by the sincerity I heard in my own humor. Her responding giggle reminded me of tinkling bells.

Once she locked the chair near the toilet, she came around to my side, looking uncertain. "Would you like help Mr…um…Edward?" She bit her lip nervously.

"Thanks, Bella, but I think I can take it from here." I cock a crooked grin her way and her cheeks flush before she does her cute little curtsy and walks away.

_What was that?_

**BPOV**

_What was that?_ I wonder as I shut the bathroom door behind me.

I had spent the past five hours since my shower fantasy reading my old text books and medical journals, trying to get my brain back on track.

I rememorized my medical vocabulary, impressed with the precision of the definitions that I remembered. I looked over old quizzes and assignments, testing myself as if I was cramming for the biggest exam of my life, certain that the next time I saw Mr. Cullen, I would be calm, cool and professional.

Then, he asked for my help and he was kind and he smiled at me for the first time in three weeks. And the medical jargon went "poof" and my heart went to mush and I was no longer a medical professional – I was a hormonal, giddy girl.

"Of course, Mr. Cullen." I responded dutifully, reminding myself in any possible way that I could that he was my employer and this was _a job._

"Please…call me Edward." He invited. My heart stopped and my stomach clenched and I wanted to kneel down at his feet and ask him to say his name over and over again with that same dazzling smile stretched across his beautiful face.

This would be the end of it.

If he wasn't Mr. Cullen and I wasn't Nurse Swan, I was done for.

"Are you sure?" I was pleading, really. Pleading with him to say no, that he was just joking and of course I should call him Mr. Cullen. Begging him to say yes so that I could venture that much farther into the fantasy.

"You're bathing me, dressing me, feeding me and sleeping with me. I'm pretty sure we can be on a first name basis." I stopped breathing and, only a second later, he did the same. We both knew what he meant - yet an awkward, suffocating silence still permeated the air, stifling the conversation.

My earlier tryst weighed heavily on my conscious, which was currently pinching my earlobe and whispering _"He knows!"_ on an endless loop.

"I'm Isabella, but my friends call me Bella." I said simply to break the tension.

"Should I count myself among your friends, then?" He teased me, and without seeing his face, I could imagine that his eyebrow was cocked confidently over one incredible emerald eye.

"I'm bathing you, dressing you, feeding you and sleeping with you. I think we've already crossed that bridge." I clamp a hand over my mouth and close my eyes, trying in vain to suck the words back in through guilty lips. However, it's too late.

He's laughing…_really _laughing…and the sound is infectious.

"Would you like help Mr…um…Edward?" I ask, my stomach going flippity-flop as I say his name out loud for the first time. I wonder if he noticed how my tongue caressed it wantonly.

"Thanks, Bella, but I think I can take it from here." He gave me this sly, sideways grin and my panties nearly combusted. I felt my face heating as I raced out of the room, thankful that he could use the restroom on his own because I seriously doubted I would be able to pull that off with any level of decency in my current state of mind.

**EPOV**

"You've worked hard today. Why don't you take the night off?" I suggested as we sat down to lunch.

Leave it to me to be so invested in my own drama that I hadn't realized she'd been by my side, 24/7 for three weeks straight. Even I wouldn't spend that much time with me, if given the choice.

She looked up from her sandwich, panic evident in her eyes. "That's very nice of you, but I'm fine, sir. I'd rather make sure that you were well taken care of. Besides, there isn't much else I'd rather do." She responded, the blush warming the apples of her cheeks as she suddenly stared down at her sandwich with heightened interest.

"Bella, there must be something you want to do – someone you want to see. Don't you have family or friends you're missing? Maybe a boyfriend who's been waiting for you to call?" I hoped that last question fitted into the conversation as seamlessly as I wanted it to.

She giggled, which didn't ease my worries any. "I call my family and friends often enough, and keep in touch with them online."

I didn't like the fact that she didn't address the boyfriend issue, but I tried to convince myself that was a good sign.

_What the hell are you talking about, Cullen? What do you think you're getting into here, anyway? You could have gotten all the pussy you wanted back in high school, and you turned them down. Now that you're some damaged, traumatized war vet, you think you can woo your way into the panties of the first girl who shows you some kindness?_

"Edward, is everything okay?" She asked, rising from her seat to come around the table towards me.

I took inventory of myself and realized that my face had twisted with my silent berating.

"Yeah, I'm fine…just something on my mind." I stammered, shaking my head to ward her off, as if she might be able to read my thoughts if she came any closer.

She stopped, standing still halfway around the table, taking stock of my condition to decide for herself whether I was in need of medical assistance.

It was just the reminder that I needed. She was my _nurse, _not my friend.

I was a _job._

_Snap out of it, Cullen._

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, fighting off the sickening thoughts swirling through my head. "Bella, I insist that you take the night off. There must be someone you must visit and something you can do. You've been her for three weeks – I'm sure there's a social life out there missing you."

She opened her mouth to object, but I intervened. "I know you have a strong sense of moral obligation that leads you to worry about me, but don't. I'll call my brother over for a visit. Now that I'm not a total ass, he might actually enjoy my company for a change. I'll be sure to let him know the turn around was all your doing." I smiled proudly.

She smiled in return, but it never really touched her doubtful eyes.

**BPOV**

"Bella! What are you doing here?" Alice crooned as she charged out of the door and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Edward gave me the night off, so I thought I'd stop by and visit my bestie." I explained with a grin.

"Edward?" She asked, a suspicious smile playing at her lips.

"Hey stranger!" Jasper called from behind her as he saw me through the open door.

"Hey!" I hollered back, tucking Alice into the crook of one arm so that I could now embrace Jasper with the other.

"Why are we all standing out here in the cold. Come on in!" He greeted me cheerily, squeezing himself between Alice and I and ushering us into the house.

"So, _Edward_, huh?" Alice suggested.

"Yes, we had a breakthrough last night. He's been completely different today – warm, pleasant, friendly, familiar. One of the first things he did was insist that I call him by his first name." I informed them, accepting the hot tea that Jasper had extended to me.

"What kind of breakthrough?" He asked.

"Well, that's a little too personal to say. Unfortunately, that sort of breaks into patient confidentiality and such." I explained, sipping the warm brew.

"So, are you still all lusty after him?" Alice asked, leaning forward towards me conspiratorially.

"Alice!" I exclaimed, my eyes immediately looking over at Jasper.

She waved him off casually. "Oh, honey, he knows everything." My mouth dropped open. "Bella, he's my fiancé, for God's sake! If you didn't want him to know, you should have told me and I would never have put you on speaker."

I spew tea all over the blanket that is laid across my lap, remembering all of the confessions I've made to my best friend in the sanctity of Edward Cullen's guest bedroom.

Jasper sipped at his tea like a gentlemen, avoiding my gaze as he spoke. "Trust me, Bella. I wish she didn't tell me some things too." He finally looked me in the eyes with that charming southern smile of his, before adding with a shrug "But, there you go. I can't unknow what I know. So, if you'd like a guy's take on all of this, I'll stick around or, if you'd like me to leave so that you can beat up Alice for spilling your secrets, I'll pull out the video camera and tape the cat fight. You're call." He finished with another casual sip.

**EPOV**

Bella was gone less than thirty minutes when Emmet arrived. "Wuz up, little bro?" The behemoth strode in, patting me loudly on the shoulder as he clasped one monstrous hand around mine. "Long time no talk!"

I shrugged my shoulders as he plopped unceremoniously down into the brown leather sectional. "Yeah, well…no one's picked on me for a while. I was beginning to feel unloved." I teased with a cocky little smile.

"Well, you look happier. Finally getting some action?"

"Ha ha ha. Real funny, Em." I quirked dryly.

"I'm just saying. You look better than you've looked in a long time. I've been here five minutes and you haven't cussed, yelled or thrown anything at me. You've actually got a little weight on your bones and your eyes don't look like you're recovering from a meth addiction. I'm definitely seeing an improvement." His elbows rested on his knees as he sat forward intensely.

I shrugged again. "Yeah? Well, I guess this new nurse is working out for me."

"Oh, so she's pretty, huh?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

"It's not like that, man." I defended.

"So, tell me, Eddie. What _is _it like?"

**BPOV**

"So, I'll save you the details, but he told me about his nightmares, and I can't blame him for being angry all the time. To have those images flashing through your head? It's absolutely unimaginable…" I trailed off as his confessions played on silently in my brain.

"So, you helped him. You got him to talk to you and he's sleeping better and feeling better because of it." Alice perked up.

"Then why do you look so miserable?" Jasper asked.

I sighed, sitting forward to leave my empty cup on the coffee table before cowering into the corner of the couch, swathed in the warm blanket. "Because this is my first job and I'm screwing it up."

"How in the world are you screwing it up?" Alice asked, her eyes bemused and concerned.

"I'm supposed to remain professional, Alice. Detached."

"You're only human, Bella, and as far as humans go, you have one of the kindest, most loving hearts of anyone I know. That might work for some people, but that's not you sweetie. I told you going into this profession that you were bound to get close to your patients and you were bound to end up getting hurt. But you're helping him! How can that be a bad thing?" She persisted, attempting to coax me to look at the bright side.

"Cuz I'm falling for him, Alice!" I surprised even myself with my confession. Aside from the crackling fire, there was silence as my two friends stared at me, absolutely speechless.

**EPOV**

"I don't know, Em. She's smart and kind. She has the patience of a saint but, if you push her into a corner, she comes out fighting. And she has the biggest heart I've ever seen." My eyes narrow as I begin to see her…_really_ see her, for the first time; finally acknowledging all of the little things I had been ignoring since she first moved in with me.

"Oh, I get it." Emmet smirked. "She has the _biggest heart_ you've ever seen!" He gestured with his hands to mock a ridiculously large set of breasts.

"I'm serious, man!" I yelled, glaring at him.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, Eddie! I got it! I got it!" He ran his hands through his hair, our only shared mannerism. "Damn, you got it bad, kid."

I shook my head defiantly. "No…you don't understand…"

"So help me understand. As far as her personality goes, she's amazing. Is that correct?" He asked, challenging me to disagree.

I nodded.

"And, now, don't get all pissy with me, but _is_ she attractive?" He hedged.

I sighed, frustrated with the way this conversation was going, but unable to divert it. It was like fighting a fucking runaway train. "Yeah. She's beautiful. Tiny. Delicate. Big, innocent, trusting brown eyes. Long, wavy mahogany hair that smells like strawberries." I smile as I remember the way her sweet scent washed over me as I held her in my arms. "Pouty, kissable rose pink lips." How could I not have noticed these things from the very first moment she walked into my home? Could my depression seriously have been so wretched that I was completely blind to the beauty of everything all around me? "She's absolutely breathtaking."

"And she likes you, so what's the problem?" He shrugged as if he had easily just solved one of life's greatest riddles and settled back down onto the couch.

"I never said she liked me, moron." I rolled my eyes at his quick hypothesis.

"You're a Cullen. How could she not like you?" I rolled my eyes again at his assumption. "Ed, stop being a fool. The girls have always adored you. Remember the way Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory were always throwing themselves at you?"

"That was seven years ago, Emmet." I corrected.

"Yeah, and you still have a fuckawesome head of hair, the same damn green eyes and that wicked, panty-dropping Cullen smile. Face it, lil bro. We inherited a fuckload of hotness from mom and dad. Deal with it. Embrace it." He pinched his shirt collar, fluffing it out proudly. "I have."

"Emmet, it's different…" I started, but he would hear none of it.

"Aw, really bro? Don't tell me you're going to make me go all girly on you and talk about brains and heart and sense of humor and that shit, too. I left my tampons at home, man. You should have warned me and I would have brought nail polish and other girly shit for the true female bonding experience." He rolled his eyes at me, as if I was wearing on his very last nerve.

"I'm a cripple, Em. I don't even know if my junk would work like that anymore. And, she's not just any girl. She wouldn't fall for the same old shit. She knows just how broken I am – more than anybody else…more than even you and mom and dad. Fine, maybe I'm pretty on the outside, and maybe that other shit was true once but now…I'm fucked up, man. Even if she was willing to give me the chance, I wouldn't deserve her. I'm just a job to her. I'm just a fucking patient."

**BPOV**

"Oh, Bella! I'm so happy for you!" Alice beamed as she launched herself across the sofa to wrap her arms around me, swaying from side to side as she embraced me merrily.

"Um, Alice…I'm not entirely sure Bella feels that's a good thing." Jasper whispered from behind her.

Alice pulled back far enough to look at my face and register what Jasper was saying. "But, how can that not be a good thing?" She looked dumbfounded, as if she absolutely could not comprehend the first thing that would be wrong with that situation.

"It's a job, Alice. It's my profession. How do you think it's going to look if I fall in love with my very first patient? Even _if_…and that's a huge _if_…he felt the same way, do you know how bad it would reflect on me to become romantically involved with someone I'm treating? He's my boss!" I whined, begging her to see the complications I was facing.

"You have a Bachelor's Degree in Nursing, Bella. How many jobs can you apply that to?" She prodded.

"Well, aside from what I'm doing, I could be an RN, a Nurse Manager, a Case Manager. I could work in a doctor's office or hospital. I mean, there are options." I knew she was getting somewhere, but I wasn't quite sure I knew where that was yet.

"How many of those options would disappear if you were to become involved with him?" She added.

Thinking about it, the only option where it would really become a problem was being a Home Health Aide, like I was now. Seeing that I had worked the answer out in my head, Alice didn't wait for me to speak it aloud before she continued. "Now, in 25 years, how many men have you met that made you feel the way that this guy is making you feel?"

My heart stopped and my stomach tightened.

"_Only one._" I whispered.

She settled back into Jasper's arms with a self-satisfied grin on her pixie face. "Well then, the only problem I see is finding out if he feels the same way and, from what I'm hearing, that's not going to be a problem."

Jasper smiled proudly, kissing her sweetly on the temple. "That's my little problem solver."

**EPOV**

"The only person disabling you is _you_, Edward. Always has been. The only person who thought you weren't good enough, the only person who put you down and said you couldn't do whatever you put your mind to…it's always been _you._ Does _she_ make you feel like a cripple? Does _she _make you feel like any less of a man?" He stressed his point.

I didn't have to answer it out loud – he could read my answer all over my face.

_No._ She made me feel special and strong and…whole. She made me feel like I could accomplish anything.

The fact of the matter was, she made me _feel. _She had touched me through the numbness – through the heartache and horror, she had found _me_ and for the first time in months, I was beginning to feel that all things were possible.

"Okay. I've done my big brother job for the night. Now, go out there and get the girl, bro." He smiled sardonically and I knew the punch line was coming. "Or, better yet…you just sit there and wait for the girl to come get you. It'd probably be faster."

I lunged for him, grabbing his nipple and twisting it before he had time to jump away. He clasped his big mitt over his tender flesh, rubbing gently. "Fuck, you bastard! That hurt!"

I laughed the same hearty laugh I had released earlier in the day, and it felt good. I looked up in time to see my big, macho brother's eyes tearing up. He knelt beside me, wrapping the huge trunks of his arms around me and squeezing tightly. "It's good to have you back, Eddie. You keep working on that, kay?"

I patted his back with a solid, clapping sound. "S'good to be back, Em. Thanks for being the welcome wagon."

He stood up, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes roughly and squeezing away the last of the emotion. "Any time, little bro. Any time."

**BPOV**

Although I had been living there for three weeks already, this was my very first time using my key to unlock the door, and I couldn't help but feel like I was intruding. I turned the key quietly, trying to keep the latch from announcing my arrival, and opened the door just wide enough to squeeze in. It was silly, but I was suddenly a nervous wreck.

"It's good to have you back, Eddie. You keep working on that, kay?" An unfamiliar baritone echoed through the foyer.

My heart warmed as I smiled at the endearment.

"S'good to be back, Em. Thanks for being the welcome wagon." I had yet to see Edward interact with anyone but me. The brotherly camaraderie was making me feel warm and fuzzy all over, and I felt myself falling that much farther.

"Any time, little bro. Any time." I could hear the sentiment in his brother's voice, the sniffling indicating that he was moving through the living room towards me. I dropped my keys loudly on the table beside the door, clearing my throat and making a commotion to announce my entrance.

"You must be Bella." The baritone assumed from right over my shoulder. I turned to introduce myself and then looked up. And up. _And up._ Looming over me was a giant of a man with broad shoulders, thick arms and blue/black hair.

"Um, yeah." I stammered.

The big guy bent over to embrace me warmly. "You're doing a great job with him, sweetie. You've almost recovered the brother I lost in the war." He stood upright, a glint in his eyes and two dimples appearing with his broad, friendly smile. He winked at me. "Keep up the good work."

I swallowed, completely taken off guard by the stranger's familiarity. I couldn't help but wonder if Edward had ever been anything like this.

"Just put up with my whiny-assed brother a little bit longer, Bella! You're working miracles!" He shouted toward the living room for Edward's amusement. "And if he gives you any slack, you call on big brother Emmet and I'll kick his ass for ya, you hear me?"

"Get out of my house, ya dumb oaf!" Edward yelled back, wheeling himself toward the entry.

I couldn't help but giggle at the mocked feud, and Edward's responding smile as he rounded the corner was absolutely glorious.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Bella. I've heard great things." He looked over his shoulder at Edward, who glared menacingly back. "Take care of him, will you?" He asked.

I nodded my head. "It would be my pleasure."

As the door clicked quietly behind Emmet, the sudden silence was deafening – the sound of the clock ticking away over the fireplace was somehow amplified.

I swallowed, struggling to find something to say to ease the tension. "Did you have a nice visit with your brother?"

"So, what did you decide to do?" He asked simultaneously, our words overlapping. We both chuckled nervously.

We each waited for the other to answer first before he finally took the leap. "Yes. It was…" he struggled to find the right word, "…enlightening." He finally concluded. "And you?"

"I decided to visit my best friend and her fiancé. It was nice to see them – thank you for suggesting it." I spoke as I took off my coat and scarf, hanging them up on the hat rack that hung behind the door.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You deserved it after putting up with my cantankerous ass all this time." He cocked a crooked little grin and unexpected parts of me quivered.

"Really, you're being too hard on yourself. I think you've been great, all things considered." I soothed.

"If I'm too hard on myself, then you're a pushover." He chuckled as he backed his chair up and spun it around. I exhaled once I was free from his beautiful gaze and followed him back towards the living room.

"So, what would you like for me to fix for dinner?" I segued into the kitchen, turning just in time to see him approaching his bedroom door.

"Oh, dinner. I hadn't thought about that. Are you very hungry?" He appeared caught off guard, as if food really was the very last thing on his mind.

"No, not really. I snacked a bit at my friend's house. Is there something else you had in mind?" I asked, easing out from behind the counter to walk towards him.

"I…um…erm…ugh…" He squirmed, appearing terribly uncomfortable.

I knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in mine and looking up at him through my lashes imploringly. "I'm here for whatever you need. Please, don't hesitate to ask." I knew how difficult it was for him to request help and was so proud of him for taking that step that I didn't want to make it any more difficult for him than necessary.

He looked down at our clasped hands and then looked back to my eyes, something seeming to settle into place in his stare. He swallowed, his tongue darting temptingly to moisten his lips. "Can you help me in the bath, please?"

My stomach clenched, my lungs seized and my heart stopped.

_You've bathed him twenty times already! Stop making this out to be a big deal!_

It was so very hard for him to ask for assistance and my hesitancy was sure not to help matters. I struggled to straighten out my features, hoping that I appeared kind and professional instead of nervous and eager. "Of course…"

I released his hands and wandered around to the back of the chair, grateful to be out of his line of sight so that I could release some of my panic. I pushed him back into the bathroom, locking the wheels in place. "I'm going to get you a change of clothes and I'll be right back. Will you be okay?"

I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. My stomach rebelled as I made my way back to his bedroom to retrieve a set of white satin pajama pants, a light gray t-shirt and another pair of boxer briefs. As I made my way back into the bathroom, I noticed that he had already taken off his shirt and draped it over the bathroom sink. I knelt down in front of him to help him remove his pants. He had already undone the button and lowered the zipper, so I helped him maneuver forward so that I could slip the pants out from underneath him. He placed his large hands on my shoulders to steady himself as I tucked my thumbs under the waistband, electricity pulsing from my fingertips straight to my trembling center.

Why did this feel so different this time? Was it the conversation I had with Alice and Jasper? Was it the encouragement from his brother and seeing him acting so normal with others?

Then it hit me. _He was in the moment._ He was touching me, looking directly at me at the same time that I was touching and looking at him. I wasn't a nurse helping an invalid. I wasn't a caregiver to a depressed, distant patient. I was a woman undressing a man.

Despite my best efforts to keep the symptoms of my arousal hidden, my breath quickened and I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. My hands brushed against his thighs as I pulled the fabric down, the hair of his strong legs tickling the sensitive skin on my fingers. I swallowed, attempting to clear the lust from my eyes before I had to look back up at him. I wasn't sure I was successful, but to avert my gaze any longer would look just as suspicious. I looked up at him, trying to paste the same kind, professional smile on my face. "Alright then. Ready to move over to the lift?"

His eyes were dark and intense as he nodded silently. I put my arms around him, feeling the warmth of his chest against the exposed skin of my throat and collar bone as I helped him shift from one seat to another. I picked up his feet and shifted them over the edge of the tub, allowing him to lower the lift into the water while I closed the chair and rolled it out of the way.

By the time I returned, he was completely settled into the warm bath with the seat reclined. He cupped his hands beneath the water, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to pour the water over his hair. I was transfixed, watching the droplets cascade over his long eyelashes, tracing the contours of his cheekbones, dancing around his jaw line, over his chin and along his sensuous throat. My eyes focused on one particular droplet as I watched it race down the planes of his chest and between his defined abs before rejoining the pool of water below.

He opened his eyes only one second after I ran my tongue over my lips, giving into my little flight of fancy. "Would you like some help washing your hair?" I said, trying to sound buoyant.

He smiled at me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Yes, please. That would be great."

**EPOV**

Since the tub was surrounded by tiled walls on three sides, the task of washing my hair require that she lean over me. It was by no means pre-meditated, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the direct view I got of her cleavage as I watched her jiggle back and forth with her ministrations.

_Damn it, man! What the hell is wrong with you? For three weeks you've tuned _this_ out? That's pure insanity!_

She seemed somewhat distant as she grabbed the extendable shower head to hose the shampoo from my hair. With my hair entirely drenched, she grabbed the wash cloth from the bar and began lathering the soap onto it. My nipples tightened as I watched, anxious to feel her hands wandering over me, berating myself once again for not having enjoyed this all this time. She put the bar of soap down and my breathing hitched with anticipation.

She started at my neck, working over the tense knots in my shoulders diligently. Luckily, I don't think she realized that my nipples were at full attention, mostly because she still appeared to be lost in her own thoughts somewhere far, far away. Her hand wandered over my stomach before she prompted me to sit up so that she could bathe my back.

I sat forward as she requested, holding onto the sides of the tub to balance myself, closing my eyes so that I could focus all of my attentions on her gentle touch. Soon, I could feel her splashing the warm water against my back to rinse off the soap, coaxing me to lie back once again.

It was amazing how I felt no shame in it this time around. In her eyes – in every little thing that she said and did – I felt like a _man._ She made me want to be better. With her, I wanted to be a hero again.

She turned to face away from me, bending over the tub as she worked down my legs towards my feet, the denim clinging to her tight, round ass as she wiggled with the effort. I could feel my brain yelling at my cock: "Wake up!" but the little guy was totally asleep on the job.

My heart clenched painfully as reality slapped me upside the head.

_It doesn't matter what she makes you feel like if your body is unwilling to participate._

I focused on her hands scrubbing my legs beneath the water, wanting more than anything to _feel_ her. To scream out "I feel your touch! I can feel that! Hallelujah, I'm cured!" But as I watched her hands circle round and round, there was nothing.

I closed my eyes and threw my head back in defeat, allowing her to do her work without any more worthless dreaming from me.

Then, her hand wandered over my groin, and something happened.

_There was a blessed little spark._

**BPOV**

I was reciting the Periodic Table of Elements in my head. I timed my breathing so that I was able to name one element on each breath, putting myself in a sort of trance as I bathed him.

_Fermium. _

_Mendelevium. _

_Nobelium._

_Lawrencium._

"Ugh…" He groaned, low and throaty and needy.

Something deep within me tightened in response as I stared up at his face, green eyes burning into mine as his lips parted with anxious breath.

I looked down at the water to see that my hand was swathing his very obvious erection with the soapy washcloth, and my breath hitched in response.

I stroked up his length once, hearing him exhale loudly as his head fell back against the tub.

I don't know what possessed me, but I pulled back down his length, watching his abdomen contract with my touch. I had only tried this once before with Eric after prom, and that had been a major failure of epic proportions. I was all tied up in knots, uncertain what to do next.

"Please..." He whispered in strangled, desperate tones. "…Don't stop."

"I…I don't…" I stammered, my heart hammering in my chest. "Show me."

His hand roamed sensuously down his wet torso, intertwining his fingers with mine as we navigated his arousal. He coaxed us up and down together, twisting our hands every so often as he licked his lips and moaned deep within his chest.

I couldn't bring myself to look at his face, focusing my gaze instead on the way our fingers danced over his length, pulsing with life of their own, coaxing his pleasure.

"So good…" he whispered, as he arched his back, obviously wanting to move his body to meet our eager stroking.

"_Yes Bella_…" He groaned.

I moaned as my name fell from his pretty lips, enthralled by his every move but unable to bring myself to participate anymore than I already was.

Our pace quickened as his breathing grew shallow and rapid, his shoulders and arms tensed for the onslaught of gratification. He quickly wrapped the wash cloth around the head of his erection as his body stiffened with his release.

It was the most erotic vision I had ever witnessed and it left me wondering "Where do we go from here?"

**EPOV**

I came down from my euphoric high to find Bella draining the water from the tub and standing up to retrieve my towel. I raised the lift from the bathtub, wondering what in the world we were supposed to do now. I wanted to talk to her…_needed_ to talk to her…but what in hell was I supposed to say?

_Thanks for the mind blowing orgasm. That wasn't quite the way that I intended for it to go down, but I appreciate it._

I opened my mouth but simply couldn't find the right words to say. Instead, she handed me the towel and allowed me to start drying off silently while she left to retrieve my wheelchair. She had yet to look me in the eye.

"Bella?" I called out, needing to see her face and know that she was alright. Her eyes were lost in a sea of confusion. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to take that look out of her eyes, but the words still eluded me. "Can you help me put my pants on?"

She smiled politely, her eyes still lost in that vast sea as she knelt down in front of me. "Of course." She lifted one foot at a time, pushing it through my underwear and pants and then sliding the material up my legs until I was covered. Ironically, being dressed in front of her now felt more indecent than being undressed, like it somehow went against our natural state. She turned to grab my shirt and I stopped her. "You know what? I think I might sleep shirtless tonight. It's kind of nice with the cold outside and the fireplace, you know?" I offered, struggling to get across to her.

"Oh." She mumbled, refolding the shirt and setting it on the vanity. I was losing her quickly, and it was scaring me.

Once I hoisted myself into my bed, she turned sideways to slip my shirt back into my nightstand where it belonged. The position placed her luscious leg right between mine, and my hand reached of its own volition to caress her thigh. Her muscles tensed beneath my touch as she straightened up, burning brown eyes peering down into mine. "I didn't mean for it to be like that, Bella. That…" I swallowed. "That was my first time."

She bowed her head and I was aching to know her secrets. "Mine too."

"Stay with me tonight. Please? You keep the nightmares away…" I pleaded, now caring more about her than I did about my damned dignity.

"I don't know if I should, Edward."

I took her hand in mine, coaxing her to sit beside me on the bed. My fingers eased up along her jaw, my large hand engulfing her petite cheek as I gazed into her eyes. "I just want to try something. Stay very still…" I whispered as I leaned into her, her scent and warmth surrounding me, assaulting my senses.

She placed her hand on my chest, halting me. "We shouldn't." She whispered, as if it was the most painstaking confession she had ever had to make.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

Her eyes pierced me, straight down into my tortured soul like a beacon of hope scaring away all the shadows. She nodded her head tentatively.

"Then you're fired." I breathed, easing our mouths together, coaxing a subtle moan from between her virgin lips.

**BPOV**

His kiss ignited my entire body on fire as I threaded my fingers into his glorious, thick hair, pulling him to me, feasting hungrily on his soft lips. It was surprisingly disorienting when he first slipped his sweet tongue into my mouth. My tongue responded slowly, unsure of what to do at first, subtly flicking out to taste him. The pleasure it created ached deep in my belly, so I pressed my tongue against his, sucking it into my mouth deliriously, an electrical current shot straight through me, creating a humming feeling between my legs.

His hands tugged at my shirt, pulling it up out of the waist band of my jeans before I peeled it off over my head. There was too much want and need in the way, clouding my usual reaction to be shy and nervous. Any remaining insecurities vanished when he looked at my body, his eyes deepening with his own burning desire. I unfastened my bra, easing it off of my shoulders before bearing myself to him like the unwrapping of a present. His arms wrapped around me, splaying across my shoulders and waist as he dipped me backwards to devour my breasts greedily. The suction pulled at my core deliciously.

He brought his hand from around my back, unbuttoning my jeans and slipping his fingers down towards my moist center, eliciting a wanton moan from my swollen lips. I frantically pushed my jeans and panties off of my hips, struggling to kick myself free from the fabric without disengaging from his touch. Without the obstacle of clothing, my hand roamed over my stomach to join his eager, inexperienced fingers.

"Help me make it feel good, Bella." He growled, my stomach clenching in response. I moved his finger over my swollen nerves, applying the tiniest bit of pressure to his hand as we moved our fingers in tight circles.

"_Ugh…Edward…yes…"_ I crooned, my body dancing beneath his touch.

I pushed gently on his shoulders, coaxing him to lie back. As much as I hated to lose the contact, I pulled his hand away so that I could slide off the bed and remove his underwear and pants. "Are you sure, Bella?" He asked, his eyes growing wide with concern.

"Pull yourself up onto the bed, Edward." I instructed, slinking onto the bed after him like a prowling jungle cat.

"I don't want to hurt you." He implored.

I brought my knee over his legs so that I was straddling his thighs, bending down to kiss him slowly and sweetly. "I know. That's why I want it to be you."

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, raising my hips off of him as he carefully positioned himself at my entrance. "I want it to be you, too." He whispered as I slowly lowered myself onto him.

There are no words to describe the exquisite pain your very first time, but patiently, he slid deeper inside of me, filling me deliciously as his hands caressed my heated skin. It hurt slightly, as I had expected it to, but the pain slowly morphed into a sinful pleasure unlike anything I had ever imagined.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was entirely in control. "I don't know what to do." I fretted.

"Just do what comes naturally. We'll learn together."

He gripped my hips, helping me to set the pace as I moved against him. It wasn't frantic and crazy like you see in the movies – it was controlled and slow and sweet.

As our love making reached its crescendo, I felt him pushing – his hips rising off the bed slightly to meet mine. Fire, electricity and energy coursed through me from head to toe as my body tightened around him, our satisfied moans punctuating our frantic heartbeats and rapid breaths.

When I collapsed into his arms, I didn't regret a thing.

Then it occurred to me.

"Edward, you moved!"

His thighs tensed beneath me, causing me to look over my shoulder towards his feet.

We watched together as the big toe on his left foot trembled slightly before all five wiggled in unison.

"Holy Shit!" He cried out, embracing me joyously.

_Every journey starts with one step, but we would walk together…._


	2. Broken:  A FollowUp

**BPOV**

We had laid together in his bed – hot, naked, sweaty bodies wrapped around one another, both feeling like we could conquer the world. We kissed for the next hour or so as our hands nervously navigated over the other's body - blindly exploring our newfound territory. There wasn't much talking; we communicated by touch and taste, guiding each other with nervous giggles, racing breath and throaty moans. We fell asleep in each other's arms that night for the second time.

But the sun had to rise once again and with it, the realization that love - or whatever manifestation of it we were currently experiencing – is a drug, but not a cure.

I stretched out across his luxurious bed, my muscles and ligaments stretching divinely as I smiled into the sunlight that streamed through the windows. I was sore, but not as badly as I had always imagined I would be. Mostly, it was the kind of pain you feel the day after a really good work out: the kind of pain that means good things.

With a silly grin on my face, I opened my eyes and rolled on my side towards the only man I had ever shared my body with. I purred, almost cat like, when I saw the wide, muscular expanse of his shoulders. I allowed my fingertips to tip-toe over his shoulder blade and then trailed my fingers softly down his side, over his rib cage, to his trim, square hips. I eased my hand around his waist, allowing my fingertips to explore the soft hair below his navel as I pulled myself closer to him, pressing myself as tightly against his back as I could.

Part of me whispered that this wasn't right. I was his nurse. I hardly knew him. Even if we made love…or…just had sex…it didn't mean anything and I really shouldn't be taking such freedoms with him until I knew where we stood.

But I wasn't that girl anymore and the truth of the matter was that I just didn't care. It might be wrong, it might be right, but I was too busy living in the moment and just _feeling_ for the first time in my life to allow any of that other stuff to matter.

I picked my foot up and lightly laid my big toe against his outer ankle, sliding it slowly up his calf to caress his leg as I pressed my breasts against him, delighting in his warmth and reveling in his scent. I leaned forward and kissed him softly on his shoulder and he trembled. I smiled into the kiss, loving what my touch was doing to him, when he trembled again. His back tensed beneath my lips, his shoulders grew taut and it was then that I realized he was folding in on himself.

"Edward?" I whispered, immediately concerned that he was having a nightmare.

He shook his head and drew in a deep breath.

He was sobbing.

"Edward, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Did I hurt you…" My voice trailed off as he continued to shake his head no, now sobbing more fiercely. The next questions hurt too much for me to say out loud.

_Was it me? Did he regret it? In the light of day, was he realizing that he had just desperately slept with his hired help?_

My stomach twisted and I feared that I might be nauseous.

"I can't feel my legs." He whimpered.

**EPOV**

"I know, but we're going to work on that together, I promise…" She coaxed, sounding almost relieved.

"No, you don't understand…I can't move…" I caressed the petite hand that rested on my stomach, threading my fingers between hers and pulling her more tightly to me. I was falling apart again, I could feel it. I just needed her to hold me together a little bit longer, but she wasn't getting it.

She raised her other hand to my temple and began gently caressing my hair. "It's going to take time, Edward, but we can do it."

"No!" I shouted, throwing her arm off of me and wanting to turn to face her, but being unable to do it quickly without the use of my legs. "You don't get it, Bella! Last night…you said I moved. You felt it. My toes…I moved my toes, remember?"

I finally maneuvered myself so that I was facing her when the tears that were pooling in her eyes instantly made me wish that I wasn't. Her bottom lip quivered as she struggled not to cry. "Yes, Edward…I remember."

I caressed her face gently, hoping to ease the tears; to mend the harshness of my ways.

_I didn't deserve her._ It wasn't the first time I had had that thought and, as long as she was willing to put up with me, I was sure it wouldn't be my last.

"Bella…I _did_ move, right? We…_did we_? Please tell me I didn't dream it…" I pleaded, my own vision becoming blurred by tears. I didn't know what was worse: the idea that I had never really moved my toes, or the notion that I had never really had the opportunity to make love to the gorgeous creature lying beside me, looking heartbroken.

"Yes Edward, you moved." A single tear spilled over and streamed down her cheek. "But you're not cured. I'm sorry, but it doesn't work like that." Her small fingers stroked over my temple and along my jaw until her palm cupped my cheek reassuringly as she looked into my eyes. "It was a step, Edward. A big step. But this is a marathon, not a 50 yard dash."

There was no mistaking it now. Although I had hurt her feelings when I barked at her, these tears that were streaming down her face were for me. But I couldn't be angered by them – it wasn't pity I was seeing in her eyes. She cared…_about me_…and it had nothing to do with her job. "And the rest, Bella? Please tell me I didn't dream the rest." She was so small and dainty, so very petite beside me that my fingertips were easing into her hairline by her ear as my thumb teased at her plump bottom lip.

She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against my hand before slipping both of her arms around me and pulling her dainty, naked body against mine, as if to remind me. She rested her head against my chest, her ear aligned over my heart and it felt like something clicked for me. I rested my chin atop her head and we just…fit. It was as if I wasn't cured, but I was whole.

"If we're dreaming, Edward, then I'm not ready to wake up, m'kay?" She whispered as her arms tightened around me and she nuzzled her face more fiercely into my chest.

**BPOV**

As long as we lay together, nude and tangled on his warm bed, Edward seemed content. Unfortunately, bladders began silently screaming for release and stomachs began growling for food until we could ignore real life no longer. I noticed his emotional decline immediately as I helped him to slip on some sweat pants and secured his wheelchair by his side. Only now that I was no longer his hired help, he was struggling to hide his despair from me.

It was odd how having shared such an intimate moment with me made him feel some need to hide the way he was truly feeling. I always thought it would work the other way when I finally found someone. I imagined that, once we shared our bodies, there would no longer be any need to hide anything from one another.

Yet, here he was – obviously disheartened and feeling desperate and trying to pretend as if everything was wonderful. He was even going as far as to feign pained smiles as I placed his feet into the foot rests and unlocked the brakes to wheel him out towards the kitchen.

"Edward – what are you doing?" I asked as he began to whistle.

"What do you mean?"

"This is obviously bothering you. We should talk about it." I put the brakes on once again as I walked around towards the front of the chair to face him. "I could probably answer some questions for you, or at least look into answering them."

His eyes flashed wide as he attempted a devilish grin before reaching out to snatch his arms around my waist and pull me down into his lap. "My only question, Isabella, is when can I get you out of this bathrobe and back into my bed?" He was attempting to leer lasciviously at me as his fingers teased up along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, but I could see through it. It was a distraction.

_A very pleasant…enticing distraction._ I thought as my body trembled with anticipation. _But a distraction none-the-less._

"Oh no you don't." I pecked him quickly on his beautiful lips before jumping up and securing the robe more tightly around myself. "Now, what do you want me to fix for breakfast?" I asked as I wheeled him into position at the breakfast table.

"Surprise me." He replied blankly.

**EPOV**

How could she see through me so easily? And, why couldn't she just let it go?

The truth of the matter was that I didn't know what was what anymore. I didn't know what to expect from anyone or anything – including myself and my own damned body.

Everything was out of my fucking control. Last night, my body had surprised me. _She_ had surprised me. I didn't think I could. I didn't think she'd want to. I didn't know it would feel so fucking good.

And then, to top it all off, I moved. _I frigging' moved! Hallelujah, I'm healed! It's the case of the miracle pussy!_ It was joy and elation and spiritual enlightenment all rolled into one amazing experience. I went from being a miserable, broken man to having everything…_having it freaking all_ in the course of an hour.

The bleak and miserable existence I had envisioned for myself was blown to pieces in light of a successful future where I was a man again – a man made even better for having known the love of an extraordinary woman.

When I woke up this morning, it was disappointing to say the least. To have held a bright and gleaming future in the palm of my hands only to have it torn away by the reality that I still had two legs that would not work…the icy claws of my reality clenched at my heart and squeezed, making every beat painful and agonizing.

Then, to feel her soft, warm body pressed against mine – to feel her arms wrapped around me exactly the way I had dreamed and to feel her breath as feminine words cascaded over my skin…it was confusing. The dream and the reality mashed together. What was truth? What was fiction? Where did dreams and reality collide? They had been sewn together so flawlessly that I was having trouble finding the seams.

I tried to focus on what she was telling me. My legs still did not work, but she wanted me none-the-less.

So yes, I was aggravated and confused and pissed as hell at my own broken, fucking body – but the girl I didn't deserve wanted me. Before, my self-loathing and depression had been so all consuming that it had taken me this long to see through it and find her. I wasn't going to allow myself to be blinded by it any longer. There was no time for that bullshit if I was going to make this work so, with every ounce of strength I had, I was going to be the happy, flirtatious, romantic lover that she deserved and just pray to God that someday, my legs would catch up with the rest of me.

She set a plate down in front of me with scrambled egg, bacon and hash browns and my stomach rumbled loudly in appreciation. She returned a moment later with a bowl containing half a grape fruit and some coffee before I peered her sneaking away out of the corner of my eye. "Where are you going? This food is far too good not to share!"

She paused, speaking back to me over her shoulder. "I snacked while I cooked, so I'm good. I'm just going to get dressed real quick. Eat up, I'll be right back."

The distracted look on her face concerned me, and the hollow sound of her voice made a chill run up my spine, but I shook it off, determined not to allow negative thoughts and paranoia to disturb me. I scooped a fork full of eggs into my mouth, but the amazingly delicious, steaming hot mixture landed uncomfortably in my vacant stomach.

I ate the rest of my meal as my mind wandered to her bedroom, wondering what might be going on in her pretty little head and wishing that I could read her mind.

**BPOV**

I spoke to him over the sizzling of the bacon as I scrambled the eggs, but he never responded. Once again, I asked him if he was alright or if he needed to talk, but he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he never even acknowledged me. He was so far away that he jumped slightly when I placed the plate of food in front of him and, in that moment that I caught him off guard, I got a brief glimpse of the expression that he didn't want me to see. His brows were furrowed deeply over stormy emerald eyes and I immediately recognized the look.

Just two days ago, that look would have been a warning that he was going to scream and yell a lot more than usual as he battled his inner demons but now, as soon as he realized I was there, he pulled a pleasant mask on for my benefit.

I was having none of it.

If he wouldn't speak to Bella, his lover, then there was only one other person I could think of who could make him talk. I took my time getting dressed, trying to gather my thoughts and rehearse what I was about to do.

I recognized the clinging of his silverware against his empty plate just as I stepped back towards the breakfast table. He arched an eyebrow when he spotted me in my scrubs.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Cullen?" I asked as I reached over to take his plate.

His hand reached out, easily engulfing my wrist. "Bella?" He laughed. "What are you doing?"

I looked into his eyes. "Well, I assume the usual, Mr. Cullen. I'll clean the dishes quickly and then we can get started with therapy." He loosened his grip in shock as I slipped away with the dirty dishes.

"I don't understand. Why are you acting like that?" He wasn't smiling any longer. In all honesty, he looked confused and more than a little scared. It hurt me to do that to him, but at least it was real.

"I'm your nurse, Mr. Cullen. Of course, your well being is my highest priority." I answered sweetly as I leaned forward to unlock the brakes.

"Bella, call me Edward. What the fuck is going on?" Tears pooled in his eyes, which made it nearly impossible for me to go on.

I kneeled down in front of him, my arms crossed over his knees as I looked up into his eyes. "I want to do what is best for you, Edward. If me being Bella means that you can't be yourself and be honest with me, then it's obviously better for me to be Nurse Swan and for us to go back to the way things used to be. At least _that way_, you had finally learned to ask for help when you needed it."

He reached out, taking my face in his hands and gently caressing my cheeks. "I fired you. I don't want you like this. I want you to be my Bella." He reached behind me and began frantically pulling bobby pins out of my hair, as if trying to find the real me underneath it all.

Once my hair began flowing loosely over my back, he took my face between his hands once again. "I'm scared. I don't understand how I could move one day and then be broken again the very next morning. But, you deserve more than some miserable, handicapped man. Don't you get it, Bella? I used to be someone who could make you happy. I could take you dancing and skiing and for long walks on the beach. I can't do any of that anymore, so I'm just trying to do what I can."

"And you think that means lying to me when you're upset?" I wrapped my fingers around his, holding his hands against my face – clinging to him as he clung to me.

"No. It means being strong. It means you not _having _to take care of me. Not _having _to nurse me back to health. I want you like a man wants a woman, so it kills me to have to sit there and let you dress me and wheel me around. I'm not afraid to ask for help, Bella. But I want to be your equal, not your patient – and I don't know how the fuck to do that." The tears finally broke loose and streamed over his cheeks as I climbed onto his lap and wrapped my arms around him, pulling his wet cheeks against my chest so that my scrubs absorbed his salty tears.

I didn't say anything because, for once, I could understand what he was saying and the way he was feeling and the best way I could see to help was by not trying to make it all better. So instead, I hugged him and stroked his hair and let him hold me as he cried.

**EPOV**

_For a macho soldier who was struggling to be a strong man to impress a girl, I sure did cry a lot._ I thought to myself with a pathetic snort and a shrug. _Hell, it's gotten the girl back into my bed for a third time. Maybe us guys have it all wrong after all._

The movie credits were rolling on my TV as Bella reached across me to put the empty popcorn bowl on my nightstand. With the bowl safely on the table, she folded her arms over my stomach and stared up at me with her big doe eyes. "So, what did you think of the movie?"

"I'm glad I didn't spend 17 bucks for us to see it at the theaters." I mumbled, allowing myself the luxury of running my fingers through her hair. She leaned into my hand with a quiet little purr.

"Are you saying that you think _Vampires Suck-"_

"Sucked?" I finished her sentence. "Most definitely. Though I thought the werewolves were pretty hilarious." I added with a smirk.

She smiled as she leaned down to place a simple kiss on my abs. When my groin tensed in response to her feather-light touch, I couldn't help the grin that pulled at my lips. _Glad to see you didn't desert me like my legs did, Private._ I silently saluted.

Bella peeked back up at me. "What are you smiling at?" She asked, one seductive eyebrow arched playfully.

"Just taking inventory of all the working parts, is all." I teased back.

To my slight disappointment, she climbed up my body in order to snuggle into my side.

Don't get me wrong, it was really nice to hold her and I knew from hearsay that girls are usually pretty sore after their first time, but that didn't stop me from hoping for another round. I mean, with faulty parts like mine, you have to strike while the iron's hot, ya know? Instead, I wrapped my arm more tightly around her petite shoulders and kissed her forehead, just grateful that she was sticking around.

"I did some research earlier, while you were talking to Emmet on the phone." She started hesitantly.

I could feel my body tense slightly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But, if you don't want to talk about it…" She led off.

I closed my eyes and focused on relaxing my body…tuning my body into feeling hers instead. Within minutes, I had plugged every nerve and every sensory reception into the tiny girl by my side. I breathed every breath with her and could only feel the parts of my body that were directly in contact with hers. "No, of course I want to hear. What did you find out?"

"Well, you know that conversion disorder is largely psychological…" She started. My shoulders immediately tensed up, so I focused once again on loosening my muscles and focusing on the way her nipples grazed my chest and her breath ghosted across my shoulder…

When she could feel that I was relaxed, she started again. "You're making progress because you spoke to me – you told me what happened. That's the first step in facing it and dealing with it."

That made sense. The nightmares had decreased significantly. My ability to see more than what was two inches in front of my face...

"Okay…" I hedged, goading her on.

"With me, last night, you weren't thinking about it. You weren't trying. You just _did._ This morning, you were focusing on it, concentrating so hard that you were trying to force your body to respond. That's what set you back."

My muscles tensed and this time, I was unable to do anything about it. "So what you're saying is that, as long as I want it and work for it and try to make it happen, it's impossible?" I could hear my voice becoming strained. "Then, what's the point in trying? It's like saying if I give up, I can walk again!"

My neck instantly began to hurt as my jaw clenched and my hands fisted.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh…." She hedged, stroking down my arm and peppering kisses on my shoulder to try to calm me down.

"Bella, you don't understand." I tried to explain my frustrations as her hand drifted lower, her fingers lightly caressing the hair that led from my navel to the apex of my thighs and my thoughts immediately became frazzled.

"Forget I said anything…" She whispered between kisses.

"How can I forget…" I started, but the way her tongue was trailing sensuously over my skin made me forget what it was I didn't think I could forget.

A moment later, her fingertips slipped beneath the waist band of my sweats as her tongue circled my nipple – something I wasn't even aware that guys were supposed to like but _fuck_ was it good!

My hand slipped over hers and we traveled further down until I could feel her slender fingers gripping me tightly. I moaned out loud and a moment later, my mouth was covered with hers as she sucked seductively on my bottom lip and then slipped her tongue in between my lips.

She began stroking and teasing up and down my length as we kissed. I impatiently worked my way up beneath her scrub top to rub at her nipple through the lace of her bra. She arched her back, pushing her breast into my hand as she moaned into my mouth.

"Ugh, Edward." She whimpered and hearing my name on her lips was nearly enough to make me come undone.

She released me and my hand continued the up and down pace as I watched her eagerly tear off her top and discard her bra. I growled and suddenly, my need to have my mouth on her body overrode my need to continue stroking. I released myself and pulled her to me, quickly covering one pert breast with my mouth as my tongue flicked and circled her taut nipple. She moaned, her hands buried in my hair as she pulled me to her chest greedily.

She swung one leg over my body so that I could feel her warm center on my stomach, my erection straining against the fabric of my sweatpants mere inches away from her snug little ass. She leaned back, one hand disappearing behind her to search for me as I sat up, chasing after her to lavish my attentions on her other breast. Her fingers wrapped around me once again just as my lips landed upon her other nipple. I sucked in with her touch, tugging gently on her nipple with my lips as my tongue darted out, flicking against the feverish bud.

With my left arm wrapped tightly around her small waist, my other hand squeezed and caressed her other breast. I could feel her body flushing beneath my touch as she began to grind her hips against me, seeking friction. I slipped my hand from her breast and down her body, her skin breaking out in goosebumps beneath my fingertips as I ventured down into her pants, seeking the warm, wet, tight center between her thighs. Fearing that she may be sore, I slipped one finger tentatively between her moist folds and she bucked against me, seeking more.

"Oh God, Edward. I want you so bad. How can I want it like this?" Her voice trembled wantonly.

With the feel of her on my fingertips, I literally ached to be inside of her. My body tensed and jerked and tightened with an overwhelming need to bury myself, feeling all of her wrapped around me in every way possible. Hearing that she wanted the very same thing was quickly pushing me over the edge.

"Aren't you sore? I don't want to hurt you…" I pleaded, my voice harsh and gravelly with restraint.

"No Edward. It only hurts wanting you….needing it so badly. Please Edward…please…" She begged as her body danced on top of mine, seeking the same release that I was.

"Ugh, Bella!" I growled as I rolled her off of me, quickly pushing her bottoms and panties down as fast as I could. She quickly began reaching and kicking, trying to discard the rest of her clothing as I pulled my own pants down, kicking them off with lazy legs, eager to be nestled between her thighs.

My legs felt like jelly as I rolled over her, her legs instantly wrapping around my hips as she reached down to position me. "Now Edward." I immediately thrust into her and stars exploded behind my eyelids. She gripped onto my biceps, squeezing and prodding me on as her heels dug into my ass, guiding my movement.

At first, I was bewildered and aggravated as to why my body was moving so sluggishly. Even as she cried out how good it felt to feel me moving inside of her, I longed to push faster and harder. Soon, my legs strengthened and I could feel my ass tensing and squeezing as I began to pound even deeper into her. My body was on fire, every muscle from head to toe triggering and responding in unison as she continued to beg for more and I longed to give it to her.

I pushed and pulled as we chanted in unison: exulting in moans and groans, exclamations to God and my favorite sound of all – the screaming of my name.

Thoroughly spent, we cuddled next to one another, our frantic breaths slowing amidst satisfied hums.

It wasn't until the very last breath I took as sleep overwhelmed me that I realized I moved my legs at all, and I fell asleep wondering if tomorrow would bring another devastating jolt of reality.

**BPOV**

My plan backfired. After the amazing night we had shared – a night filled with miracles beyond my imagination – I woke the next morning to the sound of Edward's body crashing against the hard wood floor beside his bed.

I ran around to find him in a tangle of limbs as his fists pounded the floor ferociously.

"_FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" _He repeated with every blow until I worked my way beside him and pulled him to me, hugging him tightly and rocking him back and forth, needing to comfort him in the only way I knew how.

"It's not right, Bella! I made love to you! We made love!" He screamed as the tears came, but he wouldn't allow them this time. He swatted at his eyes angrily and shook his head, denying them completely. "I'm not going to cry about this! I'm a grown man, damn it!"

Remembering everything he had achieved last night, he thought he could simply walk away now. He had sat up in bed and swung his legs over, attempting to stand up; until his legs collapsed beneath him. To add insult to injury, he had gotten out of bed to use the restroom. In the time that he lay on the floor, his bladder gave in.

That was what brought on the numbness.

I held him through the tears and the tantrum until the numbness set in. I hated seeing him that way, but it was what I had asked for. It was real – no hiding.

I cleaned him, put new lounge pants on him and got him up into his wheelchair in silence, unsure what I could possibly say to make him feel better.

He withdrew from me, locked back up inside of his head where I couldn't reach him.

Not even the scrubs could help me now.

**EPOV**

It had been embarrassing when I was her patient but now that we were…_what the fuck were we, anyway?..._it was just too much to bear.

Not only did I fall out of the same bed I had just made love to her in, but I pissed myself like a damn invalid and then sat there, helpless as I watched her clean it up. I'm not even sure how long ago that was. Was it a few days? A week?

I tried to remember in nightmares.

That's right, the nightmares came back, but worse.

This time, there was no dog.

_It was Bella._ Tied up and gagged on the side of the road in the fucking desert and all I could do was sit and watch. I knew what was going to happen. To Sarge. To Newton and Crowley. And to my beautiful, helpless Bella. _And I couldn't move because my legs were frigging useless._

To make matters worse, right before the bomb went off and everything went red – I pissed my pants.

_So, how many times had I had that nightmare now? Was it twelve?_

Yes, it had been approximately twelve days since I last made love to Bella. Almost two weeks since she lay with me in bed. Two weeks that she had been within arm's reach and I had yet to hold her or kiss her or touch her. And once again, I couldn't remember any of it.

What have we said to each other since then? What have we done?

I couldn't seem to remember one conversation or one shared meal. Hell, I couldn't even remember the last time she bathed me, though the signs I had been bathed recently were there.

Just then, my door creaked open and a petite brunette peeked her head in skittishly, a sad smile on her pink lips.

"Edward?"

Once again, I checked out.

**BPOV**

He was worse than ever. I had taken a wounded man and then ensured that he was more broken than ever before.

Where there had once been anger and hurt and sorrow – there was _nothing _now_._ He spent his days usually staring blankly ahead in whatever direction I pointed his chair. If I put food in front of him, he ate. If I prepared his bath, he allowed me to get him undressed and bathe him. He took pills when they were given to him and stared at the TV when it was turned on for him, but the Edward I knew…_hell, the Edward I was in love with_…simply wasn't there anymore.

After the first week, I took an afternoon off to visit with Alice and Jasper. Emmet was eager to spend time with his brother and I could only hope that a change in routine would be what Edward needed to snap out of it.

_Or maybe, just a break from me._ I thought sadly.

The visit was worthless on both ends. I sat wordlessly on their couch drinking tea, unable to silence the thoughts in my head long enough to feign intelligent conversation and, upon returning home, Emmet informed me that Edward had remained completely unresponsive.

I spent the second week researching information online and calling specialists seeking advice, but their responses weren't good. Most of them suggested if I – his live in help – were not enough, that he might need to be moved to a home. I spent that night bawling in my room, the guilt eating at me till there was nothing left but remorse and bones.

Of course, what would happen to Edward next was not up to me – it was for the Cullen family to decide. I could either stay and watch him self destruct while feeling completely responsible the entire time; or I could leave and hope that the next nurse could reverse the damage I had caused.

Of course, I couldn't return to nursing. I had proven what an incredible failure I was at my chosen profession and would never be able to step foot in a patient's home again without worrying about the total destruction I would bring to their lives. As it was, I had not even collected my paycheck in the weeks since we first made love. The thought of cashing in on this simply hurt more than I could possibly explain.

So it was, nearly three months after moving into Edward's home that I made the hardest decision I had ever had to make.

"May I speak to Mr. Cullen please?" My voice was shaky, but I struggled not to cry.

"This is Carlisle, may I ask who's calling?" The dignified man responded over the phone.

"Hi Mr. Cullen, this is Isabella Swan – Edward's nurse?" I choked a little on Edward's name.

"Oh, yes Nurse Swan. Is everything okay?" He immediately sounded concerned.

_No! Nothing's okay! I'm in love with your son and everyone in your family thinks I'm just his nurse! And he won't talk to me and I can't break through to him and even though you trusted me to make him better, now he's even worse and it's all my fault!_

"There's no emergency, but I'm afraid I've done all I can for your son. There have been more set-backs and I think he may need more help than I can offer." I turned the mouth piece away, hoping that he wouldn't hear the sobs I was swallowing back.

"I see. Am I to understand that you are submitting your resignation, Nurse Swan?" The lump in my throat was simply too painful to speak past, so I nodded my head.

"Nurse Swan?" he repeated a moment later as I realized he couldn't see me.

"Yes sir." I eked out.

He sighed, making me feel even worse. "I see my son's temper was too much for you to bear. Can I assume that you are giving me two weeks notice, then?"

I was aghast. "No sir. I mean, no – you're son is wonderful. He's funny and charming and talented and amazing…" I blathered.

"Miss Swan, his mother and I may live out of state, but we are perfectly aware of how difficult Edward has become to work with – we've been told by previous caretakers. If this is about a raise, perhaps we could work something out…" He suggested.

"Mr. Cullen, I am being honest when I say that you're son is amazing. He's the most incredible man I've ever met. I simply don't feel that I am capable of offering the kind of help he needs right now."

"To be quite honest, Nurse Swan, I'm a bit confused. My son Emmet was claiming that you were some kind of miracle worker. He told my wife and I after a recent visit that he had never seen Edward so incredibly happy – so it would appear to me that you are doing a terrific job." His praise was more than I could take as I finally broke down.

"Mr. Cullen, as I said, there have been some setbacks. Perhaps you and your wife should come see for yourselves and then you can decide what you think is best. Although it makes me feel terrible to say it, I think you will both agree that it is not me." I hung up the phone as I began sobbing uncontrollably.

**EPOV**

The nightmares were changing again, though I wasn't sure what was causing the change. This time, Bella survived the blast. As I climbed out of the wreckage, she walked over to me, caressed my face and placed a gentle kiss upon my forehead before she silently walked away, leaving me there among the wreckage.

I no longer woke up screaming but somehow, the pain of watching her walk away to leave me among the rubble hurt worse than anything else ever had. The tears poured quietly from my eyes as my gut ached like nothing I had ever known before – like something deep inside of me was being ripped out without anesthesia.

Three weeks? It was hard to tell, I had started losing count of the dreams, but I would venture to say that three weeks was a pretty accurate guess.

Between the nightmares, there were other dreams, though they were never as vivid. In one dream, Emmet visited but I didn't want to talk. There were lots of dreams of Bella – caressing my face, asking me to come back to her, begging me to tell her what she did wrong. In those dreams, the edges were fuzzy but her face always remained crystal clear and beautiful. In those dreams, I wanted to talk and tell her I loved her, but my tongue was too heavy and I could never get it to work. Those dreams always ended with her looking so very sad.

There were other dreams, but I often wondered which was a dream and which was reality. Did I really have seafood for lunch? Was there really a Three Stooges Marathon the other day? I didn't really know anymore.

I missed Bella. Aside from the nightmares where she died or abandoned me, and the crazy, fuzzy dreams where she somehow thought she did something wrong, I hadn't seen her in ages. I wondered what she was doing and where she was, or if it was really that long ago after all.

I was dreaming now. My parents were here with Emmet in my living room. It was good to hear their voices, though I really couldn't understand what they were saying. They weren't talking to me…they were talking about me, like I wasn't even there. Somewhere in the background, a girl was crying.

I struggled to focus on their voices, to make sense of what was going on.

"He wasn't like this." Emmet said. "He was…well…he was _Edward."_ That made me smile. Only my brother would use my name as an adjective.

"Then what did you do?" My mother screeched. My loving, tender mother. I had never heard her sound like that before. So…_betrayed_.

"I don't know." It was my Bella, but why did she sound so upset?

"Nurse Swan, as his medical provider and sole care-taker, surely you can tell us what happened to cause this change in his condition." My father was in professional mode, but I didn't really like the way he was talking to Bella.

"It's complicated, Mr. Cullen." She struggled.

I didn't like this dream. It was good to hear my parents' voices, but my parents would love my Bella. They would see how good she was for me…they would see that I was a better man because of her and they would instantly adopt her as part of the family. That's the way my parents were. There's no way in hell the kind and generous Carlisle and Esme Cullen would make the girl I love cry.

"I'm an educated man, Nurse Swan. I'm sure I can follow along." My father prompted.

"He…he fell out of bed." She whispered.

_Oh no. Not that. Don't tell them that, Bella. Please. It's too embarrassing as it is…_

"And where were you when this happened?" My father asked, sounding a little upset.

"Dad, you can't expect her to be by his side every minute of every day." Emmet defended.

_Way to go, Emmet! Talk some sense into them._

"I was with him." Bella slipped in between their comments, sounding small and scared.

"And what did you do?" Dad asked.

"Did you call the ambulance?" Mom's voice cracked an octave higher in worry.

"He was….he was…fine. I checked him. He had no physical injuries. He was able to speak coherently. There were no contusions." She rambled on, sounding insecure as she attempted to defend herself.

"Then that wasn't how this happened, was it?" My father asked, beginning to sound a little frustrated.

"It was after." She answered hollowly.

Mom jumped in. "What do you mean?"

"He was angry and frustrated and embarrassed." Bella struggled to explain. My heart swelled just a little with the fact that _she got it. She got me._

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he be embarrassed?" My mom mused.

Emmet huffed. "Seriously, mom, have you learned anything by living with three men at all?"

My mom scoffed. "Of course, but she's his nurse. I'm sure Nurse Swan has seen much worse. You're brother may be a _man_, but he's intelligent enough to know that."

"She wasn't just his nurse, mom." Emmet whispered under his breath.

"What do you mean, she wasn't just his nurse?" Dad asked.

I could almost hear Emmet's eyes rolling in his head. After a long, strained pause, Emmet replied "He was in love with her."

Mom gasped. Then, my tiny little Bella surprised the hell out of me. "We're in love with each other."

"Wait a minute…you said you were there when he fell out of bed. If you were standing there to support him, how did he fall?" Dad was ever the Sherlock Holmes, though I was really beginning to wish he could put two and two together without putting Bella on the spot.

The awkward silence stretched on.

"You weren't there to assist him, were you? You meant that you were in bed with him?" My breath caught in my throat as my father leveled the accusation at her.

The voices were becoming clearer with each agonizing second as the dream became more and more real. I wanted more than anything to stand by her side and defend her. I could see the warped way my parents were starting to think and I couldn't do anything to prevent it. My heart was pounding as my still body became covered in sweat.

"Yes sir." Bella's tiny voice replied.

"I'll report you!" My mother shouted.

"Mom, it's not like that!" Once again, Emmet stood in for me.

"You were hired to take care of our son when he couldn't take care of himself! How dare you!" My mother cried.

"Is this the truth, Miss Swan? Have we been paying you to sleep with and take advantage of our son?" My father leveled.

"No sir. I mean…no…it's…" She was struggling to explain but I knew her well enough to know that she thought she was wrong.

_She thought she was wrong._

All the fuzzy dreams of her caressing my face and begging for answers.

_They weren't dreams. She thought she did this to me. She blamed herself._

And I had let her.

"No." I struggled to yell, but my unused voice came out in a dry whisper as I attempted to enter my waking dream.

"You realize what you've done is an abuse of power, Nurse Swan?" My father's voice was strained, his anger and hurt tightly controlled.

"Yes sir." Bella whimpered.

"No!" I struggled, but they couldn't hear me over my mother, who was now shouting "Look at him! It's molestation! You took an oath to care for people! How could you?"

I sat up in bed, my arms feeling like jelly beneath their own weight.

"I don't know." Bella cried. "I didn't mean to." She was sobbing now. "I love him."

"If you loved him, you never would have let it go on like this. You would have taken him to the hospital immediately. How long as he been unresponsive, Nurse Swan?" I could picture my father towering over her trembling body, blaming her just as badly as she was already blaming herself.

I kicked my legs over the edge of the bed and looked for my wheelchair.

"A couple of weeks." She gasped.

"And you didn't tell anyone? I am going to report you, Miss Swan. By the time I am done telling them the way you have abused and neglected my son, not only with they take away your license, but you will be jailed, do you understand me?"

"No!" I struggled to shout once again, choking on the saliva that was finally beginning to flow into my mouth.

"She told me!" Emmet barked.

I spotted my chair folded up beside my dresser and knew that getting to it was useless.

"What?" My father had finally lost it. "You knew that she was mistreating your brother – that he was far worse than he was when she arrived – and you did nothing?" My father charged.

"She wasn't mistreating him. He was good, Dad. I mean, really good. I've never seen him fall for a girl like this. She made him happy." Emmet pleaded.

"So you didn't see anything wrong with him falling in love with a prostitute?" Dad yelled. The fact that Emmet was involved was simply too much for his professional demeanor to bear.

"NO!" I attempted to shout, my muted voice once again being drowned out by the ranting and raving in the next room.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. It wasn't about the money. You can have all the money back, I don't want it." Bella wailed.

I needed to hold her like I needed air. I needed to be by her side and stop this, to make everything better – to make everyone see. I gripped the nightstand and leaned on it, testing my weakened legs. And then, I once again attempted to stand.

**BPOV**

I had never seen two people be so infuriated and heartbroken in all of my life, and I was the cause for all of it. If I could have grown a tail in that moment, I would have tucked it between my legs right before crawling under a rock and praying for death.

"Bella, don't you dare apologize." Emmet comforted as he plopped down beside me, picking me up and placing me in his lap before securing his arms around me.

It felt wrong to be in someone else's arms but, he was like Edward in so many ways that I closed my eyes and allowed myself to pretend, drawing in his strength.

Mr. Cullen sighed loudly. "Emmet, I think you and I need to go outside and talk right this instant." He seethed.

"No Dad. You don't know because you haven't been here. You and mom didn't hear the way the nightmares messed with him at night. You didn't see him when he looked like a meth addict from the complete lack of rest. And you didn't see how much better he looked when she came around, or the light in his eyes when he talked about her. I know you love us, but _you weren't here._" His large hand came up behind my head and laid it down against his shoulder as he began rocking me gently.

Mrs. Cullen spoke up. "Are you trying to say this is our fault, Emmet?"

"Mom, don't be ridiculous. What I'm saying is that you haven't been here. I'm his big brother! Do you honestly think I would stand by and support him if he was in a position that was bad for him?" Emmet pleaded as he stroked my hair soothingly.

What Mr. Cullen said next shocked even me. "No, we don't. But we do know from experience that you and your brother both share a fondness for attractive young ladies that often leads you into trouble. That could explain why you are defying your parents and comforting the young lady who appears to have put him in a vegetative state."

I pushed through the barricade of Emmet's arms and struggled to stand up. "You're right. I never meant to hurt Edward and I most certainly don't want to stand here and tear this family apart. That was why I called you, Mr. Cullen. So that you could see to it that Edward gets the help that he needs and find my replacement as quickly as possible." I swiped at my eyes, drying the last of the tears that I had to cry.

I spun around to retrieve my purse and looked into Emmet's eyes, placing a palm against his cheek as if to make him feel my sincerity through my touch. "If he ever comes back to you, please tell him I love him and that it was real." For the first time all day, his eyes teared up and he nodded at me, returning the light caress to my cheek. "Thank you for believing in me."

Before I could get more choked up, I turned to face the parents who currently loathed me. "I am so very, very sorry that I couldn't do more for your son and I will forfeit my license first thing Monday morning. I understand if you feel the need to press charges – I will, however, not apologize for falling in love with Edward. It was the single most gratifying thing I've ever done."

With that, I swung my purse over my arm and headed past his bedroom for the last time on my way to the front door.

"Please don't go." A quiet voice pleaded from the bedroom doorway as arms wrapped around my waist and hugged me tightly.

**EPOV**

I refused to celebrate when I stood on my own legs for the very first time. I refused to rejoice when Emmet stood up for Bella as I took my first shaky step.

More importantly, I didn't collapse when my father once again put Bella down, and I managed to take another step, and another step as Bella laid it all out on the line for my parents.

My heart did sing however when I reached the doorway in time to wrap my arms around her tiny waist and pull her flush against me. I leaned against the doorframe, thoroughly exhausted from my five foot hike across the bedroom, but seeing the way her eyes lit up when she looked at me was enough to make it worth it.

"Edward?" She beamed, dropping her purse onto the floor as she cupped my face in both hands. "You walked! You walked Edward!"

"For you." I whispered as I peered over her shoulder at my bewildered parents. "I did it for her." My body trembled with the strength I was exerting to stay upright.

"Emmet – Can you get him a chair, please?" My big brother bolted to the breakfast table and quickly returned to our side, helping Bella to guide me into the chair.

It was the first time I had sat in a standard chair in months. I quickly pulled Bella into my lap, absolutely refusing to ever let her go again.

"Mom, Dad. I know you love me and you were worried about me, but Bella never behaved inappropriately during her employment. I fired her before we took any romantic steps, even though she's continued to stay by my side and care for me." Before my dad could step in, I added one more important factor: "Check your bank account. If I know her well enough, I'd be tempted to bet that she hasn't cashed a paycheck in about three weeks, have you?"

One look into her big brown eyes told me the truth as she blushed and buried her head against my shoulder.

**BPOV**

It took a while, but Carlisle and Esme eventually came to trust me and eventually take me in as part of the family. It was a long, awkward road, but thankfully we had big brother Emmet there every step of the way.

Alice even invited Esme to my bachelorette party. That was where we learned that Esme can't handle Tequila shots – but it was also when she unloaded how very sorry she was for all the accusations that were made against me on that day. It was apparently a burden she had been carrying around for quite some time.

My bridesmaid Rosalie informed me that I didn't handle my Tequila much better. Luckily, Esme doesn't seem to remember me telling her how good Edward was in bed…nor does she remember telling me that he must get it from his father.

Tequila seemed to do well all around as Alice squeezed a proposal out of Jasper that night and Rosalie hooked up with a tall behemoth of a man with blue eyes, dark cropped hair and dimples.

Before much longer, I assume Rosie and I will be sisters-in-law.

Despite the fact that things worked out in the end, I simply couldn't go back into nursing after my experience with Edward. Instead, I found work at a local youth center as a counselor and advocate. My specialty seems to be helping children work through post traumatic stress disorder.

After I worked at the youth center for some time, they hired an incredibly handsome, charming man to run the boys sports division. He coaches soccer in the summer, football in the fall and during the snowy winter months, he teaches the kids how to ski. He even adopted a dog to be the center's mascot – a gorgeous husky named "Miracle". All the single moms flirt with him relentlessly, but that never stops Coach Cullen from coming home with me at the end of the night.

Edward likes to joke that I have a miracle pussy – a magical vag that broken men will walk a mile through the desert for. It's a joke that I find crude and distasteful, though I still laugh a little when he's not looking.

In truth, we know the secret of miracles. It takes a dream, a pinch of strength, a healthy heaping of faith and a whole lot of love.

**A/N: **This second chapter was written in response to the many reader comments I was getting in regards to Edward being cured by sex. The original one shot was written for a contest, and then cut and chopped and demolished in order to meet the 15,000 word limit, which admittedly made the ending seem rushed. Although the "cured by cooch" responses were funny, I felt that the story was not being taken seriously, despite my best intentions. So, hopefully, this will help cap that off a little bit (though you will still see that I am quite capable at laughing at myself. lol) For the record, though, my research shows that it would be perfectly reasonable for Edward to have regained some use of his lower limbs after 1) speaking to Bella about the trauma and 2) being distracted from his inability to move (ie: during sex).

You can learn a little more about the disorder from this blog, which was written by someone who recovered from conversion disorder: http:/ mindbodythoughts. blogspot. com/2011/02/conversion-disorder-by-mayo-clinic-on. Html (Remove the spaces)


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